Shade Literary Arts

Even a missile can’t break the spikes it uses to stab opponents. They’re even harder than its shell. i dreamt a calcified sculpture ...

I inhale the steam, my mother told me hymns linger in the nostrils. Even after the fact, even among the radioactive fallout of tears,...

I want to know what makes me want to see one man call another his ‘boy’ and fuck him. Oh, Freud would love this disaster. I know I’m not...

well, shit. all those years i done dedicated to seeing my skin hexed up under this neon. each glossy decade gone to waste, pretty wigs on...

At the river, I watches the green be itself even without the sun. I is the only bright yellow thing out here. I’s nails, anyway....

青1 after《白蛇传》2 一 You have written me green. It is the dark gall green, caustic. Skin, green....

“It took a precise sequence of sins to make me/ and I am giving none of them back.” Julian Randall, “Sad Nigga Manifesto” When I opened...

I. Rainbow sits on the windowsill between grey. Like the man wearing a galabaya in front of another grey building, sipping the same...

JASMINE LEIGH WEBER is a visual artist completing her degree at Columbia University in the Center for Studies in Ethnicity and Race, with...

KELLY KEI BAIRD is a fool-hearted nineteen-year-old living in Berkeley, California. They are an angry barista, freelance illustrator, and...