By Amy Ash
A girl swallows a matchstick, stifles the slow burn in the hollow of her throat. She wants a home, she says, smoke curling from her tongue.
Who wouldn’t love a writer who references glam rock band Queen in the same breath as Baudelaire? It’s not a surprise, though, coming from Kona Morris, who has traveled the U.S. as a teacher, writer, editor, publisher, literary panelist, and founder of word-centric endeavors great and small.
By Kona Morris
He said he liked to be scientific about it. Stick his finger in and feel around. “What’s that?” “This part is really soft.” “I feel ripples.”