Of my heart, / my eyes. I stole your bifocals and we crashed into /
the kitchen table and all you could see was sunlight.

By Amy Liu
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Poetry

Of my heart, / my eyes. I stole your bifocals and we crashed into /
the kitchen table and all you could see was sunlight.

Poetry

Together we are the best pretenders.

Poetry

say desire, say cinder, say Pulau Pinang, my home

Poetry

“Silence” and “Contending with ‘You’ After You Are Gone”

Poetry

“Anthill,” “Jericho,” and “Tofino”

Poetry

I speak with the weight of / hours left on this side of the pacific

Poetry

Locheequat, fruit of the non-doing.

Essays

I was struck by the world I tasted—woods, Baja California granite, the winter of the grapes’ growth.

Essays

A notebook on alchemy, memory, and sensation

Poetry

An erasure of the Punjab Protection of Women against Violence Act 2016

Poetry

Translated from the Chinese

Poetry

Only thought the smell of jasmine tasted like smoke.

Poetry

I have done it again, crossing / outside the frame into / some brave, new world

Poetry

Translated from Hanja (Old Korean) to Hangul (modern Korean) and then English

Poetry

I am only the height and width of a girl. 

Poetry

There is a waxing // for every waning.

Poetry

After Rebecca Lindenberg

Poetry

we dig / holes into the ground, fill them with dirt / from another shore, call it home.

Poetry

Of my heart, / my eyes. I stole your bifocals and we crashed into /
the kitchen table and all you could see was sunlight.

Poetry

An erasure of the Punjab Protection of Women against Violence Act 2016

Poetry

Together we are the best pretenders.

Poetry

Translated from the Chinese

Poetry

say desire, say cinder, say Pulau Pinang, my home

Poetry

Only thought the smell of jasmine tasted like smoke.

Poetry

“Silence” and “Contending with ‘You’ After You Are Gone”

Poetry

I have done it again, crossing / outside the frame into / some brave, new world

Poetry

“Anthill,” “Jericho,” and “Tofino”

Poetry

Translated from Hanja (Old Korean) to Hangul (modern Korean) and then English

Poetry

I speak with the weight of / hours left on this side of the pacific

Poetry

I am only the height and width of a girl. 

Poetry

Locheequat, fruit of the non-doing.

Poetry

There is a waxing // for every waning.

Essays

I was struck by the world I tasted—woods, Baja California granite, the winter of the grapes’ growth.

Poetry

After Rebecca Lindenberg

Essays

A notebook on alchemy, memory, and sensation

Poetry

we dig / holes into the ground, fill them with dirt / from another shore, call it home.