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Stephanie Holden

triptych for the water

                                           i.
the thunderstorm inside me travels dangerously. in the beginning it was in the rhythmic sway of my hips, that constant pitter patter of my feet against the concrete in my hometown. it was a lazy summer rain, the lap of the warm breeze against the puddle in my stomach. it was softness and cicadas and there was no fear there, no sadness, only the lullaby of my mother making enchiladas in the next room.
 
                                          ii.
on the second day, the rain came from my shoulders, strong and heavy, and it betrayed me. drops hard like bullets tore from my hands and soles and soul and nothing was left of me but the flood. there is a hole in the kitchen ceiling that was never fixed. we left it as a reminder of the day the water sloshed and overflowed and drowned and left my mother stranded in the next room.
 
                                         iii.
on the seventh day there was only the stillness, so complete, an ocean of what used to be, calm like the eye of the hurricane that once raged inside my skull. it was only the emptiness, the nothingness that the water left behind, the quietude of a neighborhood not yet rebuilt. there is a sogginess that cannot be removed, a mildew, the ghost of my mother’s enchiladas in the next room.

Biography

Picture
Stephanie Holden (she/they) is a Halloween-loving queer living in New Orleans, Louisiana. She writes about love, trauma, gore, and the self. Her interests are fantasy books, body modification, and the South. Find her work at or forthcoming in Ghost City Press, Cloves, Voidspace, The B’K, Bullshit Lit, Soft Star Magazine, Martello Journal, and elsewhere, or her narcissistic tweets at @smhxlden.
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  • Home
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    • Issue 42
    • Issue 41
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    • Issue 39
    • Issue 38
    • Issue 37
    • Issue 36
    • Issue 35
    • Issue 34
    • Issue 33
    • Issue 32
    • Issue 31
    • Issue 30
    • Issue 29
    • Issue 28
    • Issue 27
    • Issue 26
    • Issue 25
    • Issue 24
    • Issue 23
    • Issue 22
    • Issue 21
    • Issue 20
    • Issue 19
    • Issue 18
    • Serenity
    • Issue 17
    • The Audio Room
    • Issue 16
    • Issue 15
    • Issue 14
    • Play It Again
    • Issue 13
    • Issue 12
    • Issue 11
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Hand to Mouth
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Submissions