Ellen in Hobart, Tasmania #139 (Transcendence)

Birdsong. I stood in a forest and saw a wren flying in the white winter sky; perched on a steeple where a bell once called children to God. For the first time since I'd slithered on my belly on this earth, I thought there might be something more miraculous than pleasure.

Sydney in Winchester, KY #138 (Hyperreality)

Black and white photograph. Faces blurred. Mom sitting on the porch of granddad's house. Darkness behind her, staring from inside the house. Serpents coiling around her ankles. She coughs up blood. A man I've never seen stands in the front yard in the far left corner of the photo and has a gun in his mouth. There are several suns in the sky. (Bevo Francis)

Clint in Glen's Ferry, Idaho #137 (Hyperreality)

So far from fire and it's ancient land. Far from you hiking up your skirt and pissing blood from the pain I've caused. So far from loving and being loved.

Mark in Lime, Oregon #136 (Hyperreality)

A bird is a mountain peak. A tree is an irrigated field. Birds of prey carrying your children off into blue skies to devour their insides. There are no names for anything under God's endless heavens.

Ricky in Avenal, California #135 (Sexuality)

Nail marks on my fat breasts, bite marks on my throat, welps on my back and thighs. Is this how I need you to show your love? Tied to our bed, gagged with a sock, blindfolded. You put my face in the pillow; you straddle my flabby body and fuck me in my chasmic asshole while I sob muffled cries of fleshly delight. This is how I need you to show your love. (Scoughs)

Thomas in Mott, North Dakota #134 (Hyperreality)

Flightless bird flying toward entropy. Craning their necks to drink blood from a bloodless being. Roosting in the branches of a tree that sprouted from an earth that died long ago.

Anna Bell in Bumble Bee, Arizona #133 (Sorrow)

Saw a mural of the Christ smiling and rising in the blue sky; transfigured in the most mediocre way. It was terrifying and heart rending to see salvation rendered so poorly. It reminded me of you. Your exaltation is illness, your rapture is poverty.