I In an old cafe on Frenchmen Street in The Faubourg Marigny, a ceiling fan churns, throwing dust into the eyes of an old painting of Madame Rose Nicaud. A […]
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The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged
I In an old cafe on Frenchmen Street in The Faubourg Marigny, a ceiling fan churns, throwing dust into the eyes of an old painting of Madame Rose Nicaud. A […]
Read more“try hate later on” #MetaworkerMonday
Read moreI knew already, struck with the phantasm of a dream that I had taken the reins of my life at last. Like a drowning man finding the hole in the […]
Read moreHow can I forget you If your breath is on my skin, A peppermint sweet cloaked around my neck, Hair chaotic against my chest, Eyes as dreamy where my Eden […]
Read moreI was five years old when I first kissed a girl. Her name was Juliana and it happened during my kindergarten recess, on the sand playground. Juliana was a redhead […]
Read moreThey Sleek bold body bound by expectations by gendered declarations forced to function in conversations split in twain by ‘his’ + ‘her’, no ‘they’ How to navigate this intimate space […]
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