My Body Is Not Your Politics by Hannah Bonner
“My Body Is Not Your Politics” by Hannah Bonner My body is not your politics. On the bus, in the Laundromat, in the classroom, on the stained mattress, stuck in line for groceries, pressed together, like petals in a book, waiting for the sign “walk” in green, my body is not your politics. In the dark tunnel of the alleyway building with the tumult of a March wind, among the blue fissures of the call light on...
A Number of Blue Women by Anita M. Barnard
“A Number of Blue Women” by Anita M. Barnard I They cannot help it; they were painted like that, nude, in that unshrinking shade. Their bodies round, revealed, as ripe as the red and yellow fruit around them, vibrant. The air quivers clear between them, the curving bodies of the fruit and the women. This one in the corner, near us, lounging, displays her round and ample backside. The shades of blue arcing in...
Why My Body by Antonia Clark
“Why My Body” by Antonia Clark Because I’ve made it a temple and worshipped at its altar. Because I’ve stuffed it with secrets and let it make me sorry. Because it can’t follow directions, a slave to delay and meander. Because I’ve tried to conceal it, desiring the bodies of others. Because I’ve scraped and scarred it, teaching it needless lessons. Because it’s the seed of...
Everything Shining and Invisible
Quiero estar dentro de tu más oscuro todo. I want to be inside your darkest everything. – Frida Kahlo “Generativity” by Marsha Rosenzweig Pincus, section image for Waves: A Confluence of Women’s Voices Read More _________________________________________________________ My Bones Are In You [each title is a link to the individual work] No Love Letters by Helen Casey Legacy by...
Illusion by Christina Dudley
“Illusion” by Christina Dudley In response to The Q Creative Form: Where I am From ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here
Does the sea remember everything? I wonder.
Does she absorb everything? Does she keep it safe?
Virginia Woolf
. . .
The Q: Can you fathom the spectacle that would be created if we moved together, arms outstretched, close enough to touch?
The Q: What echoes through you that longs to take form—a poem, an image, a mark, a whisper of becoming?
Recent From Waves
-
fathoms Feb 28, 2026 -
-
-
-
