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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Danaë, 1907
why not paint your own visage in the mirror?—he tells me my questions are an account of his wisdom, and he plans to live as the gods do: not as himself, but in a silhouette like mine
How Far Back This Goes
my sadness was once tangled around my name.
the doctors had to touch the cold rain of their hands
against my fevered skull to know it was real
Slow Lesson
Stitches of rain unpierce
my lips. There is no pain.
What the breath slips loose
I regain.
Julius’ Pigeon
I’m sitting on a park bench surrounded by pigeons.
They teeter and flap about.
It’s raining but they don’t seem to mind.
They peck at the ground, scouring for crumbs.
Stay tuned for our upcoming issue, out this December.