The Goddess Becomes

It was a pleasure to burn. Of the eight, it was my most beautiful arm: the hillside slope of the shoulder, the tender elbow, that lilting wrist, narrow yet invincible. Had he seen it in the dance, or still in his Sistine posture, even Michelangelo would have known God is a woman.

The downy hair went up first, and then the skin, the perfect fingernails, the sizzling fat and muscle. There is always a relaxation in admitting the truth, even a truth that smells like sulfur and charcoal: I am the flames as much as I was ever the arm.From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

Brook’s poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and humor have appeared in Monkeybicycle, Empty Mirror Magazine, Harbinger Asylum, MoonPark Review, Little India, Dămfīno, Nowhere Poetry, Rat's Ass Review, Peacock Journal, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies. In 2013, she and her husband Gaurav created Blue Planet Journal, which she edits and writes for. She holds an MFA from Lindenwood University, teaches poetry and creative writing at a community college, and is writing a novel. See more at www.brook-bhagat.com or reach her on Twitter at @BrookBhagat.

Mistaken Identity

“Patricia?”

“Yes, Sir?” replied the student being questioned.

“Wonderful!”

Mr. Griffin gazed at his student’s artwork.

“I improved the charcoal shading,” Patricia beamed. She looked up forhis reaction.

“I mean your dance of the sugar plum fairy was wonderful,” the teacherclarified.

“It was Delores. Not me.”

“What were you?”

“One of the reindeer.”

Mr. Griffin gazed into the distance. “Delores!” he yelled andcommenced walking towards her.

Patricia’s eyes filled with tears. A few landed on her drawing.Someone tapped her shoulder.

“Nice picture. You’re a gifted artist,” Paul the student sitting nextto her said.

Patricia smiled.From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Sheresides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband and stuffed animals.