Babylon

Stories in Babylon

hunting, soul, Prose poetry

You slough on, muck clinging to your holy heels.

by Cassandra Oswald

Babylon — A stray current whistles past your temple. It vanishes behind you, into the deep viridian. Tiny baby bones of the earth snap and sink under the pads of your feet. It’s just rained and you are sluiced...

magic, dreaming, theory

It wasn't until I sunk through a mattress in middle Tennessee that I understood magic.

by Cassandra Oswald

Babylon — Heavy through to a sudden lofty dispersion, my spine meeting unfelt space, I buoyed briefly on a remnant pull from above.The final sinews of another world’s gravity snapped clean from me, and my head ...

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