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Romantic Love

Readers Write

Fantasy

Calling a 1-900 number, moving to the tropics, writing fan fiction

By Our Readers February 2024
Poetry

Spring Garden Street

I had left her sitting on the front stoop / and crossed the street / to light my cigarette—April / in the early evening, / the pear trees with their arms full / of white blossoms, comfortless as ghosts.

By Grady Chambers January 2024
Fiction

Falling Action in Hoboken

There is something hard in me, a seedlike malignancy. I can’t say how it got there or when, but I can’t remember the last time I felt pure love or sadness or joy. It’s always a mix of things, some confused and muted in-between.

By Lucy Tan January 2024
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Abandon All Expectations

The fish is now thrashing at the surface. Unlike every other captain I have seen, Cuervo uses a net, not a gaff, to bring it aboard. He has enough experience to know that, by the time a full-grown yellowtail is brought to the boat, it has essentially fought itself to death. Rich lets the captain take over, and Cuervo handles the marvelous creature with a tenderness that has been missing from most of my charter-fishing experiences.

By Dave Zoby December 2023
Fiction

Basements

I was considered “good,” considered a “good influence.” It amazed me — like the cool feeling of Marshall’s tongue on my labia had amazed me — that I could possess all of these qualities; that I could be both warm and cold, virtuous and defiant; and that someone could love me for all of it.

By Lauren Hohle December 2023
Poetry

This Little Bit I Am Trying To Hold

Poems About Departures

Listen to the poets in this month’s special poetry section read their poems about leaving and letting go. To listen, click the play button below each title in the article.

 

I will leave you, / and I will / leave the sudden // darkness of afternoon thunderstorms / and I will leave / the rain and its patience in shaping mountains

from “I Will Leave,” by Michael Bazzett

 

I am here to translate my father’s death / into fruit. Something that can be held. To bring / it up to your lips the way I spooned strawberry / yogurt up to his and said to him the word “Eat.” / There was no use, in the end. There was no hunger.

from “I Did What I Could to Keep This,” by Peter Markus

 

Tonight, because all matter is dissolving, you & I / are being gradually undressed by the universe — // silk & wool molecules mingling with cells / rising from skin like souls

from “Everything,” by Terry Lucas

By Michael Bazzett, Peter Markus & Terry Lucas November 2023
The Dog-Eared Page

Poetry By Sparrow And Alison Luterman

When I worked as a manuscript reader for The Sun, I didn’t always agree with founder and editor Sy Safransky about poetry. . . . But there were two poets whose work always appealed to both of us: the Bay Area poet and essayist Alison Luterman and New York City’s kindest oddball, Sparrow. . . . It’s my honor to introduce both poets, whose rewarding, divergent work has been crucial in shaping the voice and image of The Sun for decades.

— Ann Humphreys

By Sparrow & Alison Luterman June 2023
Poetry

Some Quiet Evenings

I go out to sit with them — thin / insects tuning their strings, / the night’s first bat casting / in the breeze — and remember / that evening, hot and windless, / a new lover stripping / my bed, spreading my sheets / on the moonless grass.

By AE Hines June 2023
Readers Write

Tattoos

A memorial, an act of rebellion, a reminder of survival

By Our Readers April 2023
Readers Write

Dating Apps

Meeting a spouse, rediscovering an ex, matching with yourself

By Our Readers March 2023