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The eighth issue of Anatolios Magazine is live! Download it for free below and make sure to keep an eye out for our next open submission window!

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The bones that burr / filed out to friction on the tracks / a bone saw for the conscious mind 

I travel on the principles of not being bothersome /  I practice drinking red eyes / and curling my knees / I practice holding my elbows to my tightening stomach / and sleep cutting away the journey to you 

The chatter on the window / is a numbing agent spread on my gums / love static in my teeth / my mouth is filled, throat empty / the cotton could taste like you / the bee stings could taste like you 

I press my lips to unmoving glass. Daydream your mouth on the window. 

crashing       themselves into action

maybe your impoverished soul is afraid of his fire, does it tire you?

question, after question, after question, after question, after question.  I know- I know,

but do you see how the sun shines right through him? do you see his eyes? all melted chocolate &

mountainous       dreams; why would you ever want to destroy that?

he is a force of nature like wind & the chaotic waves, like when they come together into hurricane; & you want to put that in captivity?

how dare you make him feel   less than when he is so much more, when he is literally overflowing     with life, with utter brilliance

now you don't believe in learning people, but when you meet her, she feels like a long forgotten song, lyrics you can't recall but an air you can't stop humming. she walks her own path in the dusk, and you never know if she's falling or flying. your days always easier than your nights, waking up panting, dreaming of the road not taken.

she gets to know you, day by day you see in her eyes how she files away every little thing you do and can't help but notice the things she already knows, even though you haven't let yourself be in years.

ever since he left.

at night you worry about her path joining up with his, about her following him into the longest night, making the choice that you couldn't. she is already fully in the dusk and you can't seem to pull her into the dawn, no matter how much light you pour into her hands, it seems to completely disappear into a timeless void.

little did you know.

one dusk, she leaves, walks away on the space between sundown and moonrise, and you know you will never see her again.

but at daybreak she returns, and behind her he stands, his eyes unknown to you yet, but his hands glowing with your light.

“Many echoes compose Contact Light: the deafening, mind-crunching dimensions of the universe, the frail fires shot through the valleys & mountains of the brain, & questions — ours, past, present & future. The resulting voice speaks to that part of us which is always thirsty for understanding, always craning its neck to watch in wonder. In synergy with science, Madina Malahayati Chumaera's writing activates both the majesty & the monstrosity of being a part of the universe.” – Florence Lenaers, Poet & Physicist

my book, CONTACT LIGHT: the void inside and out will be (re)published by gramedia pustaka utama this october, and i’m still in equal parts disbelief and awe about it. it was my personal project back in year 10, combining my interest in both cognitive science & outer space, and now it’s going to be out in bookstores around indonesia (and internationally hopefully soon). 

the book is my attempt to answer the question of why our curiosity about outer space has been intrinsic to us humankind. it includes questioning the elements of what makes us us, such as our beliefs and values; our relationships to both the environment that we live in and with each other – in the end, what makes us humans so human.