For over 20 years, Epiphany has published literature that guides readers toward unexpected revelation. Learn more about us and the writers we publish.
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Music for Desks: Road, Horse, Illinois
“I write poems, and mostly my work doesn’t weave itself whole. There are no rhymes; no child would ever demand to hear it during snack.”
An Infinite Dressing Room of Selves
As we moved through the “Know Thyself” syllabus, I grappled to articulate the elements that went into knowing myself. I hammered away at myself like an interrogator.
All My Ancestors
“Now all the women after, are her lovers and will praise her with gifts. With their sacred rot, their bodies will mingle in the making of new soil.”
“Another Moon” & “Bruised Jasmines”
“Nearing thirty, we’re still children who see only metaphors. We’re pilgrims who follow the glow, our minds the candles burning in a tin box, all wax and flames.”
When I Was Thirteen
“She made me sit next to her, arms shaved thoroughly, her skin covered in razor burns. ‘We’ll get another one.’”
Stay tuned for our upcoming issue, out this December.