WELCOME

Written by: Tamar Simone Weir There's an Alaska airlines plane flying over the freeway A monarch butterfly hits my windshield elegantly And I think about last week when we laid in your bed and you told me that song made you feel like you were floating on a cloud. I agreed with you and it felt like we were on drugs But it was just the loud music and the wetness inside me. Banana peels soaking on the terrazza A bowl of collected flowers, drenched laying in a bed of water Absor

Written by: Tamar Simone Weir Erotic art uniquely captures the subtleties of intimacy, especially in the queer community. It functions...

Written by: Tamar Weir October 10, 2024 Artist of Image: Tarn Ellis jazz was playing in the background i dont remember what song and even if i did would it matter? breathing she said the more you relax and open the faster this will be repeating this mantra my mama told me crying in the sterile brightly lit bathroom no words were necessary just tears communicating through walls being held by the softness of fear what does it mean to be entered? and to submit to the sensation?

Brown sweet yucky-ness, it’s sticky and it was icky and wasn’t fragile and fruity-red or popping-pink. Brown wrinkled textured...

Written by: Tamar Simone Weir. Dec 21, 2020 Still sleepy, she comes to the small house by the street with the school. By the fence. By the water tower originally built on this land, marked with a bright-colored green on the clearly accented edges. Covered with a bright white, recently re-painted, “adding that authentic cottage look”. She gatherers her items. Her hands always full of something. This time she carries her mother’s painted and acrylic stained jacket, a pot full o