Category

Love

Classic and contemporary works on affection, connection, heartbreak, and more.

Showing 1-20 of 3,470 results
  • Poem
    By Jacques J. Rancourt
    I dressed as a stag: headpiece
    of antlers, fabric flowers

    hot-glued to a harness, my ass
    hanging out of…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineThe Story I Tell

    By Aaron Shurin
    The gates, the gardens, the windows, the sky, the ledge of  bricks, the fallen leaves, the porch where…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineFebruary 14

    By Jesse Nathan
    Going to the Russian bathhouse on Innes
    to lie naked on a shelf in the steam
    while the hatted man
    swanning…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineLake Chateau

    By Dorothea Lasky
    I still feel the same
    As the day that I first met you
    Though softened by all of this time

    I still think…
  • Poem
    By bruno darío
    Translated By Kit Schluter
    I want to accompany you
    on the adventure of mastery.
    How I’d love
    our love, the antonym of art!
  • Poem
    By Li Bai
    Translated By Keith Holyoak
    Back when my hair barely covered my forehead
    I was picking flowers in front of the gate.
    You rode over…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineA Force of Nature

    By Paul Tran
    Mixed greens. Purple onions. Banana
    Peppers. Tomatoes. Avocados. Mayonnaise. Pepper. Sourdough.
    A stranger…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineDeparture

    By Zhang Xian
    Translated By Shangyang Fang
    to the tune “mu lan hua: magnolia”
     After tonight, what’s left of you is you

    moving into my dream. Outside…
  • Poem
    By Zhang Xian
    相离徒有相逢梦。门外马蹄尘已动。
    怨歌留待醉时听,远⽬不堪空际送。

    今宵风⽉知谁共。声咽琵琶槽上凤。
    ⼈⽣⽆物⽐多情,江⽔不深⼭不重。
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineOrfeo

    By Dan Beachy-Quick
    I created more loss where I meant to make less.
    Created more debt where I meant to make depth.
    Created…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazinepoem.

    By Rowan Wilde Riggs
    constellations of dimwitted substrate
    twinkle like formless apparitions.
    i keep walking forward
    so your…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineEnding Song

    By Paisley Rekdal
    You’d never call the branches
    arms, though in certain
    lights don’t pine and man
    look like hands

    conjoined…
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