Italo Ferrante

spiral

when we first met 

you called me / monstrous

onion-shine / a puffy

cat’s eye / too concentric 

for origami magic

i blamed my mum / she drew

me out / with a compass

& my dad / he fed me

pig’s milk / until i was six

i began to dream / of a straight-

edge / squaring the circle 

& squashing heaven / forever

i promised myself / i’d skip 

one meal / for each digit of pi

after a fracture / of days

my spine / doubled its axis

my shoulder blades / moved

tangent to your face / my stretch 

marks / bore your initials 

but you’d still / find a snowflake

more beautiful

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Italo Ferrante (he/him) is a queer poet who earned a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing from the University of Warwick. To date, his work has been selected for publication by Poetry Salzburg, Impossible Archetype, Cardiff Review, Sage Cigarettes, Inflections Magazine, Lighthouse, and Orchard Lea Press. Recently, his poem "Ode to Abruzzo" has been shortlisted for the Oxford Brookes' International Poetry Competition (2022). Italo can be found on Instagram as @_literarture_.

Sara Gilbert

lá éigin

someday, autumn will stop 

reminding me of Dublin snow, 

your black fleece beanie, my 

faux fur boots. Buskers’ silk 

voices sing Ed Sheeran on street 

corners in Temple Bar: “I’ve 

found a love for me”; cobblestone 

slow dances as tourists rush by on 

slippery sidewalks, ready for dinner 

or overpriced drinks. Icy mist sprays

subtly on cheeks flushed pink while

Christmas lights glow yellow gold 

on Grafton street, casting shadows 

over faces on All Soul’s Day. Lilted 

Our Father’s mumbled under the thunder 

of angry church bells. My hands in your 

coat pockets, just to keep us warm. 

Squeeze fingers tightly, graduation 

doesn’t mean goodbye. But it does 

mean home. My home. Hamburgers 

and milkshakes in white hot southern 

sunshine. No shouts of slainté or 

shots of whiskey on dark wooden 

bar stools. I’m out of place among 

the stars and stripes, missing your 

home instead: craving stories of rural 

County Mayo and its cold, untouched 

sea. I see you in all shades of green grass 

and golden city lights, hear whispers of 

you in crisp winter winds, taste your 

flavors in thirsty gulps of guinness pints.

---

Sara Gilbert is a fifth year Ph. D. candidate in Fiction at Oklahoma State University. She has an MFA in long-form fiction and an MA in English Literature. Sara’s work has been featured in The Thing Itself, New Plains Review, the Santa Clara Review, and others.

TikTok: sara.gilbert.writes

Twitter: saraxelizabethxgilbert