Contact Us

Use the form on the right to contact us.

You can edit the text in this area, and change where the contact form on the right submits to, by entering edit mode using the modes on the bottom right. 





The Ankh

            It was so special. Our time together. Your smile had me glowing red and your absence had me radiating blue. I’ll never forget the green of your eyes nor how the emerald shine glittered when you first entered me. Those irises of yours were clear and white, as you flushed pink, worried about me enjoying myself. I knew you loved me because only I could unlock your treasure chest. The diamonds in your smile when you saw me after class and the rubies on your chest taut, every time I suggested a blowjob. Silver hair whipped around in my dreams as I imagined running my hands through it over years. I watched you run across the field glistening with sweat so thankful I could say I knew you. We laid in white sheets and you brought me home. School was supposed to be my new home, but I did not feel it until your friendship.

            The laughs rang out as a warning before I felt the stones they threw. The stones in their smiles stung my skin and the gaze of their dull brown eyes covered me like shit. The words never left my head. You did not laugh. You did not stop it. You did not look at me. Back in my room across campus, the words floated to the surface. They were white like the skin of the voices that produced them. Slowly, each letter emerged in the red shame of an alphabet soup. You ignored my texts and they echoed out in my room now having space with the absence of voices.


“Wow. She would honestly be so pretty if she wasn’t black. But I’d never touch one in real life anyway.”

"Oh man! Don't tell me you have jungle fever!"


            From that moment, all I saw was white. For the first time, I was not on that side. I was not on your side. It was so bright, blinding, terrifying. The rest of our time, my time, their time was spent squinting. I was squinting. My eyes were squeezed and straining, yearning to see you. You were my sun. It hurt to look, but I could not exist without you. You were warmth, the source of life on my once dry planet. I was your moon. My existence was made evident at night. That was when I was most powerful. We never existed at the same time. Nobody saw us together in the light of day. Never seen together. You shone for the both of us. I represented darkness and you only gazed at me swaddled in the depths of night. I controlled the tide of your cum and come dawn, the tide was low. I slipped out as you slept. The moon was never out as I padded across campus.

            White/light specks littered my vision as I walked by you and the dull stars you called friends. Sunglasses adorned my face to hide my tears, to hide my gaze always trained on you. My sun and my stars. You saw me differently depending on if it was your light, their light, the light of day. I need you to know I tried. I tried to scrub it off. Tried to renew my skin; take off the craters, calluses, the gray. I wanted to shine for you. I wanted to shine like you. We could have been the rarest two suns taking up space in the sky. People would look at us and marvel. They would want us to bless their children and would wait a hundred years to see us again. All I wanted. Light, bright, pure white for you.


            Everything went black. You made me black. All the colors reflected off of you and unto me and my skin was ruined. Ruined. Unwanted, dirty, burnt. I shone in the night, but you usurped the bright. Night became my home and dawn never came. I ruled it with a dark heart. My pupils dilated and took over my eyes. Bangs cascaded, thick, down over my forehead solidifying into a constant water fall of nothingness. Nothing could see in and nothing could see out. Light disappeared in my presence. Every light, every bright white. The white burned my skin. I threw myself into the fire emerged charred, singed, blackened. My love for you made me black. You took all the light. I never understood why you did not share.

Tarah Timothe '19
Image: Rachel Godfrey '19