LE Magazine

Literary Nonfiction

Nonah Palmer

“Hay ma’m,” he said. His voice was hoarse. “Looks like your girl saved me.”

There were suddenly two of me, and this really isn’t something I’ve been able to grasp even now, even after I came to my senses about this whole trans thing. One of me thought “My hair’s not that long!” and the other thought “How does he know, how does he know, what does he know?” Honestly I can’t say if that’s not a corruption of the memory, because I didn’t have the language for any of this shit back then. But the part of me with the fear looked at him, and he looked right back into my terror and understood. – The Wharf Story, read the full story in LE Anthology. 

Poetry

Lina Biuvidaviucite

During the day, the girls learn:

memento mori homo homini lupus est,

they cross-stitch and make pudding,
during the day, the girls dance rounds – so very
dainty, with aprons, they play piano,
dance the waltz with one another.
At night, the devil  rolls up the girls’ white
blouses…

Excerpted from The Beginning of Eros: For all of those who have experienced sexual violence, read the Collection, Cycle Eros in LE Anthology, 2019-2023

Literary Nonfiction

Suzanne Lea

After a while I realized that if I could make it through the first few minutes, I usually picked up a kind-of rhythm. I never got very good at it but after a while, I also was not completely terrible. Turns out, when it comes to phone sex, not being terrible is pretty much all that is required. These men are not calling for subtlety or nuance; they are calling for telephone sex. I did not have to be. – The Specificity of Desire, read the full story in LE Anthology.