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Two Poems by Andrea Abi-Karam
Book cover of Villainy by Andrea Abi-Karam includes a black and white tarp all folded together

Excerpts from the collection.

Two Poems by Andrea Abi-Karam
Book cover of Villainy by Andrea Abi-Karam includes a black and white tarp all folded together

Excerpts from the collection.

Our First Mask, The Body: Yelena Moskovich Interviewed by ​Grace Lavery
Portraits of two white women, side by side, one with brown hair sitting in an studio, the other with red hair and a pink background.

On Clowning, Magic, and their BUNKERSLUTS collaboration.

Use of the Erotic by Rickey Laurentiis
Laurentiis Mockup
Self-Preservation by Margaret Malone
A green, yellow, and brown engraving of ferns and other plants looking especially curly and sensual, reaching for the sky.

A mother on getting acquainted with her postpartum libido.

Do U Like Your Shadow From Moonlite? by Tara Ison
Moonlite Pink
Addicted to Limerence: Melissa Broder Interviewed by Sarah Rose Etter
Cover of Melissa Broder's Milk Fed

A novel that takes us back to the sensual, food and sex galore.

Honoring the Body: R.O. Kwon and Garth Greenwell Interviewed by Greg Mania
Kink1
Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore by Amy Gall
A duo-tone portrait of author Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore. The background is a dark slate blue and the photo of Sycamore is light pink. Sycamore's hand covers her face and presses her chunky beaded necklace against her mouth.

With her latest book, The Freezer Door, Sycamore breaks down language and genre to confront intimacy, the politics of gay bars, and to find the communities we desire.

BOMB #154 Preview: Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore by Amy Gall
Mbs Fd 6

In this excerpt from her interview in BOMB’s winter 2021 issue, Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore discusses activism, gay bars, and her forthcoming book, The Freezer Door.

A Surreptitious Form of Activism: Michelle Handelman Interviewed by Jane Ursula Harris
Bloodsisters 01

The filmmaker on her 1995 film BloodSisters documenting San Francisco’s leather-dyke scene.

Parts and Labor by Halimah Marcus
Zoran Tairovic abstract painting of a blue bike

The first time I saw Jane I was working at the bike shop, a veritable cacophony of grease and gunk I only survived by occupying my hands. Bikes had a purpose that had nothing to do with me—every part fit together properly so my mind could remain free and unviolated. Her left knee was scrapped, with pieces of pavement lodged in the wound. The sight disrupted my hard-earned equilibrium. I tried not to look, but it was too late. I had already imagined retrieving the bits of bloody gravel from her abrasion and rolling them like candy on my tongue.

Projecting Desires: Sarah Gerard Interviewed by Elle Nash
Cover of True Love by Sarah Gerard

The writer on her new novel, creative partnerships, sex as communication, and tending to old drafts.

Tattoo by Legna Rodríguez Iglesias
My Favorite Girlfriend Was A French Bulldog

My favorites are the ones you see, but I have a lot you don’t see unless I’m naked. And I’m not going to get naked now. I’m too embarrassed with you.

Elaine Kahn’s Romance or The End by Rob Goyanes
Romance Or The End

All loves—and all selves—are fictions. Though that doesn’t mean they aren’t true.

My Ecstatic Body: T Fleischmann Interviewed by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore
T Fleischmann Cover

The writer on seeking queer lineage, public sex as collective defiance, and autobiography as accumulation.

Three Poems by shireen alia ahmed
Full Size Render

Sick and smelly / I dip my finger into my belly button / and it seems to go forever // Not a shallow cup this is just / AttemptS just attempts to remember / what it was like to be pastel

“What Hovers Beyond Language”: Jennifer Natalya Fink Interviewed by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore
Jennifer Natalya Fink Image

Sex as ecstasy and trap.

One Unsettling Night in a Bar: Angela Washko’s The Game: The Game by Daniella LaGaccia
The Game1

Building empathy through simulated pickup artistry.

Supermán by Achy Obejas
Obejas Bomb 141

They say that, for the longest time, Enrique didn’t know he was a superman. What he understood was that men liked his dick.

Hog for Sorrow by Leopoldine Core

Lucy and Kit sat waiting side by side on a black leather couch, before a long glass window that looked out over Tribeca, the winter sun in their laps. Kit stole sideward glances at Lucy, who hummed, twisting her hair around her fingers in a compulsive fashion.

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