en•gendered
LightNews LightNews
banner
en-gendered.bsky.social
en•gendered
@en-gendered.bsky.social
150 followers 79 following 160 posts
neck deep in pronouns and the water is fine
submissions reopen SEPTEMBER 1st
[email protected]
engenderedlitmag.com
Posts Replies Media Videos
en-gendered.bsky.social
"It seems to me like every good butch
has a fuck-ass haircut.
The blunt bob, bowl cut, wolf-cut, shag—
They’re not trends—
they’re lineage.
Call it a queer family crest—
shaved in the back alley by your ex."
- Meg Mellor, Raise

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
Raise Meg Mellor Image one of two I wear my mullet like a laurel crown. My badge of honour, a symbol of triumph, It’s the flag I fly when I walk into a bar, the kind of place that still smells like American Marlboros and bleach— the jukebox playing Springsteen and Sins. It seems to me like every good butch has a fuck-ass haircut. The blunt bob, bowl cut, wolf-cut, shag— They’re not trends— they’re lineage. Call it a queer family crest— shaved in the back alley by your ex. Dull clippers, & half a cigarette burning on the window ledge. This is inheritance. This is culture. Let them gawk. They don’t know what it’s like to run callused hands along marble sculptures, each cut given with the cunt factor in mind. I wear my mullet like a laurel crown. That dyke regalia hangs from my head like a flag shared between the scumbag confederates and the simple sapphics. Image two of two and she pulls it off like it’s foreplay, holds it in her calloused hands like something holy— and sets it on the nightstand, next to a fish-shaped pocket knife. Stone top? Sure— But I’m not Indescribable/Untouchable/Invincible. My haircut clocks me as a queer, A diesel dyke, A “cute butch” Fingers find a hold in my lineage: my holes, my mind, my mulleted hair. I wear them like a crown of thorns. My girl’s voice cracks in my mouth like communion. And I kneel. I kneel, like I never did for any man. Sure— Call it: “performance” Get fucked, Butler. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 11, 2025 at 6:15 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"Call me boy-dyke, fag, she-he, they/it, “transtrender”
—Wrong.
I’ll bedazzle every name on my leather.
I don’t run
for anyone—
but me."
- Meg Mellor, Baby

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
Baby, Meg Mellor first of two images I was born sprinting. I bled through every mile of this gender. Call me deviant. Call me boy-dyke, fag, she-he, they/it, “transtrender” —Wrong. I’ll bedazzle every name on my leather. I don’t run for anyone— but me. Not for the crowd, not for the finish line— I run for that anger inside, That beast, The hunger that never quits. For the teenage-self that craved locker-room smirks, and girl-forsaken grit. I run because the fire in me won’t go out. I’m full of want, & rage & something feral You couldn’t name if I bent you over, and spelled it across your back in bite marks. Something that only post-nut clarity could bring second of two images a queer out-of-the-closet. I run because every “sir” or “ma’am” is a muzzle. I learned to bite back in syllables that split lips— mine and theirs. I broke through the stained-glass cage and left the comfort of conformity—heteronormativity. I fought my way out with bloodied hands and beamed at the splinters gripped by my fists like trophies. I run because I am the animal You tried to leash. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 10, 2025 at 10:01 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"all of these
organs and nerves working
outside the timeline: the
working hours, dictated for
the sake of someone else’s
wealth"
- the (mis)use of broken things, Ireisha Anindya

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
the (mis)use of broken things. Ireisha Anindya broken — like a shard of glass that cut deep into the skin — the surface of your self, the exterior that hides blood and flesh — the weaknesses, the tender part, all of these organs and nerves working outside the timeline: the working hours, dictated for the sake of someone else’s wealth — a hill to die for. the gaping chasm that is society is a risk that might kill you might kill me might kill all of us. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 9, 2025 at 4:55 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
HIT LIKE A GIRL. MAKE A FIST AND PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER. PULL EVERY BONE IN YOUR HAND—ALL THE TENDER PART, THE DELICATE INSTRUMENT, THE HARD STRUCTURE [....] THE WEIGHT OF YOUR HEART IS IN YOUR HAND.
- Ireisha Anindya, HIT LIKE A GIRL

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
HIT LIKE A GIRL. MAKE A FIST AND PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER. PULL EVERY BONE IN YOUR HAND—ALL THE TENDER PART, THE DELICATE INSTRUMENT, THE HARD STRUCTURE. FOLD YOUR FINGERS AS YOU EXTEND YOUR HAND, AND PUT YOUR THUMB OVER THOSE FOLDED FINGERS. THE WEIGHT OF YOUR HEART IS IN YOUR HAND. RAISE IT ABOVE THE SLEEVE WHERE YOU WEAR YOUR HEART AS SOMETHING MORE THAN A FASHION STATEMENT. RAISE IT TO YOUR CHIN THAT IS RAISED AGAINST THE AUDACITY, THAT IS RAISED AGAINST THIS INJUSTICE! MOVE YOUR FIST WITH YOUR ENTIRE BODY AND STRIKE WITH YOUR MIGHT. LET THE WEIGHT OF THIS HEART REACH THOSE STANDING IN YOUR WAY. YOU ARE HERE TO MAKE AN IMPACT. - Ireisha Anindya
December 8, 2025 at 4:38 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"in this land
of ravens & magpies
dolls & medusas
experimental hair
& indeterminate
beautifully fluid
performative gender
I feel at home
as I do in my new
hard-won skin"
- Jude FireSong, Supernova

@fabulousphoenixboy.bsky.social
engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
The Majestical Roof, Fretted with Golden Fire - Dyptic A Jude FireSong A heavily textured painting consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. The Majestical Roof, Fretted with Golden Fire - Dyptic B Jude FireSong A heavily textured painting consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Supernova — a trans birthday poem Jude FireSong siamo tutti bellissimi in body & perizomino con parrucche blu exploding like a 3yo star in a Black Hole bathed in flashing lights awash in zombie robot rhythm that makes handwriting hard and verb conjugation harder this music sounds like I feel the scream of the pain of existence I don’t think I’ve ever felt so free to be silly or dramatic — like my lashes in this land of ravens & magpies dolls & medusas experimental hair & indeterminate beautifully fluid performative gender I feel at home as I do in my new hard-won skin we are all gorgeous in bodysuits & tiny thongs with blue wigs lunghe trecce bionde acconciature tubolari come spire serpentine di una mitologia cyberpunk tutti truccati borchiati laccati fino ai denti un’alternativa aliena all’alienazione sociale. long blonde braids tubular hairstyles like the serpentine spires of a cyberpunk mythology all made up studded hairsprayed to the teeth an alien alternative to social alienation.
December 6, 2025 at 4:35 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"my ribs cannot fashion
what is made of me.
She’s all I could have done,
all I could have been."
- Jaeden Lyttle, pen name

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
pen name Jaeden Lyttle She billows beneath me, and I know she can see where it is that I ache. I carve out the gentle slopes to her body, how soft her skin does feel. Pry open the maw, feel the heat. What makes a man out of her, out of me? I upturn heaps of dead earth, finger the worth until I find it there, that family name. What binds her to me? My memory is but a gun, and so it goes that I am none but ravaged when the barrel aims for her, at the cusps. Take me for what I am, and find something of hers to love. There is no harm in trying. She is only love, sorely loved. It is sprouting from our hips as a fungus, I am parasitic. The world is a revolver to which I yield to, demean myself to, and when the trigger finds the buds of me I respond only in lethargy. The love of me, I spend and I spend. She is everything to me. I reach for her, and she reaches right back Is this where we meet? Where is it that we can lead? Make me into more than just your host. I’ll follow your ghost, the breadth of your life but my ribs cannot fashion what is made of me. She’s all I could have done, all I could have been. I wish I had known her differently. Enunciate my name slowly. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 5, 2025 at 4:56 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"there are tears of joy and
smiles that scream sadness.
there is no contradiction
quite like the two of us."
- kathryn dooley, mother

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
mother kathryn dooley there are tears of joy and smiles that scream sadness. there is no contradiction quite like the two of us. boughs are beginning to break off wavering willows outside. a tire swing is bending its branch, the whole tree collapsing under the great weight of nothing. first, a can of soup rolls off the sidewalk then cereal boxes spill, produce wilts at the touch of the blazing concrete. knelt between the fallen groceries, a salty cascade of emotions spilling, too and reflected in the pool is you. tears have been waiting her whole life. you have no idea, i wanted you to mean so much to me. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 4, 2025 at 8:07 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"when i ask you to say my name
i’m asking you to kill that pain in me.
that indescribable feeling, just shy
of anger, of jealousy, of lament"
- kathryn dooley, my dying name

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2024
my dying name kathryn dooley i am certain that you know me. you call my name, and my spine tingles. at first, i don’t even recognize it as my own, but it must be me, i know we are alone. that name is a flower growing in a window box, your words the rainwater which coax my buds to rise and feel the sunshine for what may be the first time. you know me when we are at home, at the restaurant, and the drive there, but those painful little moments, a credit card, a phone call home, love letters from long ago, cast a shadow over all you know. only weeds can grow in the shadows, even beautiful weeds, trampled and poisoned all the same. when i ask you to say my name i’m asking you to kill that pain in me. that indescribable feeling, just shy of anger, of jealousy, of lament, of a window cracked open, whistles becoming howls with the slightest breeze. a pain that gained a name as soon as i learned mine. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 3, 2025 at 6:22 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"in this poem,
a girl’s skin is held static
in a dusty black/white photograph—
defying the perception of ordinary eyes"
- Tukur Ridwan, monochrome

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
monochrome Tukur Ridwan in this poem, a girl’s skin is held static in a dusty black/white photograph— defying the perception of ordinary eyes she breaks out of this vintage binary frame and in her words, I am African, not black with a voice that clears the fog of doubt and enchants my eardrums the clause blew away her stigma’s dust and broke the jinx in my eyes and like a historian to a wallpaper a boy idolizes her smooth pigment which makes the rainbow bow with her tender fingers, she rubs her stretch marks/ she stuns the world in my wide eyes/ she disappears with the blink of my stunned eyes I must find her wherever she goes— I hope she loves it when I adore her with my melanated fingers and if I cannot see her again may her words outlive her in my heart like the footprints of revolution even before you could name her for her colour she knew what she symbolised woe unto the city of colours and what it says I could find a song for that line and make a hit The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 2, 2025 at 6:06 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"death reads the room and scampers for safety in the forest—
the vibration of a mother’s screams
is the preparedness of nature’s heroic bloom."
- Tukur Ridwan, Maternity iv

engenderedlitmg.com/autumn2025
Maternity iv Tukur Ridwan Ayọ̀ abara tín tín 1 is the cheerful lyric to the songs of gratitude as the fertility goddess smiles at us— a testament to this morning’s joy succeeding the anxious evening permeating the labour room. silent prayers appease the deities of life, that dearth has no resting place in this household of harvests. death reads the room and scampers for safety in the forest— the vibration of a mother’s screams is the preparedness of nature’s heroic bloom. in the father’s right fingers is a tesbiu 2 , counting soulful steps to find God’s abode. he forgot— these divine ears can capture our voices of zikr 3 before we even speak, and exert God’s benevolence— maybe twins, maybe triplets, or a bundle personified by a body in its birthday suit. as we hear the seasonal thuds of fruits off their trees, the baby descends and pacifies the mother of her tears, bidding its loyal placenta farewell. Ọ̀ṣun 4 invokes a new dawn of life in a household teeming with generations. 1 “This is a little thing of joy” in Yoruba parlance. 2 A string of beads used for prayer by muslims like a rosary. 3 “Remembrance of God” – a form of Islamic worship or prayer 4 The Yoruba goddess of fertility. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
December 1, 2025 at 4:48 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"Through the window of my phone,
I looked to see the world stepping out
into the sun and coming back home—
of someone who has made a ghost
of another, and of those who’d
not just hold their peace."
- Tukur Ridwan, My Journey Through the Battlefield of Venus

engenderedlitmag.com
My Journey Through the Battlefield of Venus Tukur Ridwan I met a fierce woman in the corner of my dreams. She said to me: “Nothing is wrong with a kind of love that comes like a drug— with an expiry date”. She said that if this bond were to afford me a dose of sanity at its dead-end, then who needs it should get it, and who does not should give it. I woke up from what could have led me through the open door into an epic room. Through the window of my phone, I looked to see the world stepping out into the sun and coming back home— of someone who has made a ghost of another, and of those who’d not just hold their peace. Then I said to this fierce woman: “My warmth is no match if you’ve reached your breaking point”. “I only hope you choose to make my home a room of colours of fond memories, not a tomb of our bodies when we make love to the symphonies”. in a liberating time like this, love could be just enough for our flaws to flourish while we fly with our broken wings. my wings could also be clipped till I fall right at her feet. I just hope every season allows her to live without her flowers withering. “how you whet your flowers into lasting blooms is no more in your hands alone, if you let me tend to your garden”. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
November 25, 2025 at 6:10 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"And that the very first thing we saw—when we raised our eyes—
were our mothers’ faces.

The first weapon we held: her hand."
- Virginia Eve, Ursa Minor

engenderedlitmag.com
Ursa Minor For the bear I killed on I-91 Virginia Eve Did you know that we were both born in the bitter throat of January? And that the very first thing we saw—when we raised our eyes— were our mothers’ faces. The first weapon we held: her hand. Tell me about the dream where you witnessed your own death. I’ll tell you of mine: I was driving my father’s rusted 2008 Subaru Outback, heading home from my in-laws, when your impact sent a shiver through my body. Our deciding moment—eyes locked—with nothing but air caught in our throats: the final image etched in my mind, before I woke up alone. I cannot help but wonder—when my womb descends, and my daughter lifts her head for the very first time— will she feel the cool winter breeze, look past my face to the night sky, and see you there, walking gently beside your child? Will her skin prickle? The Men I Date Love Chess More Than They Love Me Virginia Eve They take their espresso black—bitter— American Spirit ash smudged across the saucer When we kiss, it tastes like that: burnt carbon, and toxicants. The men I date love Woolf and Plath, some other girl’s chapbook with the corners folded in, the sound of their own silence. They quote heartbreak as scripture, and leave it scribbled along the margins. The men I date love their former lovers in slow motion, carry annotated paperbacks like relics— fingerprints on vinyl, lipstick on a coffee mug that lived in a shared cabinet—unwashed. They would sooner cry than tell the truth, in dim lighting, and using a voice that belongs to someone else. The men I date sing along to instrumental music, call their mothers every day, write poetry— but never about me. Moving my body— Closer to someone else’s end game. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
November 24, 2025 at 6:23 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"Frozen
water of the womb keeping
us still and unmoving.

There is no need
to leave this place
and begin."
- Winter in the Womb, Chantae Bryant

engenderedlitmag.com
Winter in the Womb Chantae Bryant Incandescent pearls lacerated across my vision, I cannot see the snow covered world holding time between its plaque-less teeth. The days placated between grooved gums. Frozen water of the womb keeping us still and unmoving. There is no need to leave this place and begin. Lost Waters Chantae Bryant I was the early breach body on a winter's day in February when the earth still grew cold. Amethyst slicked roads, ice around the edges turning skin blue black Pulp rubies bursting with blood. Not yet healed cesarean wounds. My mother forgot my name under Bupivacaine haze. My tongue, language warped and ancestral bones cracking. In the dark waters of a mother's body that held the answer to a question not yet formed. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
November 23, 2025 at 2:28 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"To cut
a coup, yes.

couper les points let us
bathe in the honey.
Let it crystallize in our veins."
- coups des corps, Chantae Bryant

engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
coups des corps Chantae Bryant Fat water colored bruises - chins slicked with spittle. Knobbed knuckles against cage bars. Eyes feast on a naked woman who looks like me- no like us. Unfettered, and skin slack around the thighs; reach out and touch her. Pressed bulging bellies against rusted iron. Tongues lapping at the seams pulled taught with virgin thread. couper. To cut, a coup, yes. couper les points let us bathe in the honey. Let it crystallize in our veins. Feast on the body and be sure to devour the womb first. This is consecration. The wine, the bread, the ovaries torn through white skin. Is it your mother who weeps? Gnashed jowls at the gate, the twist of a key. I have long heard the voice of God, I saw him once too. He is the empty form that emerges from my mouth to the phallus. He is the woman, who looks like you and me, call her by name. He is the womb warped and uglied. Threads long cast aside. Come inside and consume more beyond the eyes. Let us sully our bones and play pretend upon this fetid land. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana engenderedlitmag.com
November 22, 2025 at 2:53 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"I lift my stomach, swipe above my pubic hair
fold back the flesh on the top of my thigh."
- Sudocrem, Charlotte Cosgrove

@charlottecosgrove.bsky.social
engenderedlitmag.com/autumn2025
Sudocrem Charlotte Cosgrove I sweep the white paste under my breast Heave the old things up Wipe with my index finger Crescent shapes Like a ghost’s smile or a strange tribe I lift my stomach, swipe above my pubic hair Fold back the flesh on the top of my thigh Like choux pastry, cream my groin. Does this disgust or concern you? Did I mention the mirror in the bathroom? The one I must stand in front of Facing myself. His and Hers Charlotte Cosgrove They slide their trays in for the same amount of time. Twelve cupcake cases lined up -  Neat, ready. They leave them in a bit longer  Now they know what they are doing. His come out fluffy, plump. Hers sag in the middle  The mixture has cooked crispy over the edges. She wore blue check with red shoes Charlotte Cosgrove Dorothy Gale’s clothes don’t match. Nobody told Dorothy: Your shoes don’t match your dress. Was your mother like mine? Did she ever tell you – If your underwear is losing thread  And you get ran over You’ll feel like you want to die.  Did you know they were going to cast A blonde girl? But it didn’t quite fit The look they were going for. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana
November 21, 2025 at 5:32 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
"Maybe the clay was fired too soon..."

'Terracotta women' & 'Ain't I' by Ali
engenderedlitmag.com
Terracotta Woman Ali Something has gone wrong. Maybe the clay was fired too soon, Maybe the muscles weren’t entirely moulded to the cast Maybe the sculptor missed the spot between my thighs. Ain’t I? Ali Wrapped inside myself I may finally feel home, Skin skin skin which is mine mine mine. If the ship of Theseus wasn’t built in a day, Let me wake up with splinters in my hands steadily building the muscles around hope. When the nausea subsides I’ll wish for violin hips around which love wraps like a skirt. Lest they see how my hairline tapers, lest they know I’ve no clue how to even use a tampon. Tonight empiricism comes home with me, lying in bed my clitoris feels phallic. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana
November 20, 2025 at 6:13 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
The Wish is the Approachable Secret
Jessica Swanson

engenderedlitmag.com
The Wish is the Approachable Secret. Jessica Swanson Suppose we return to April momentarily. Suppose I do not offer the challenge of “We’ll figure it out.” Suppose I do not shake in your arms. Suppose your heartbeat is something other than erratic beneath my palm. Suppose neither of us are nervous. Suppose we do not teeter on the edge of casual. Suppose we lay proper ground rules. Suppose it’s far too late now. Suppose we return to some night in the months before the present. I will not tell you which. They all bleed into each other, but the outcome is always the same. I am left staring after a weak hug, a mumbled promise, a closed door. Even in dreams, you leave me. Suppose I am terribly romantic about it all just the same because there are times when you forget yourself and press your face into my neck or absentmindedly brush the hair from my eyes. Times when you gently trace your fingers down my back and I like to imagine that these are the touches that you reserve for the ones you truly love: slow and devastatingly soft. Suppose I do this to myself when I wish for nothing more than the opportunity to follow the gleam of sunlight across your skin one Saturday morning. Suppose I say, “I understand,” even as I fail to pinpoint exactly why neither of us are honest. Suppose the outcome changes. Suppose I do not tangle my fingers into your hair out of desperate affection. Instead, it is done with the intent to keep you close Suppose after all our pleasantries, you unlock the door, press the key back into my hand and say, “I don’t have to go home. I will stay.” Suppose I do not curl into a ball on the bed and cry. Suppose I do not rationalize my feelings away. Suppose I do not cry. Suppose I did not cry. Suppose you handed back my key. Suppose you stayed. Suppose you stay. Suppose we talk about what we are truly doing to one another. Suppose we have expectations, and we address them in turn. Suppose I check your boxes—however hypothetical. Suppose I look good on paper. Suppose you write something down so I don’t have to do it for you. Suppose I ask you to keep my key. Suppose I get you your own. Suppose these are the things we meant to do from the beginning. Suppose you understand. Suppose you feel the same. The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” Thokozani Mbwana
November 19, 2025 at 3:09 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
are we feeling en*gendered on this beautiful Tuesday?

autumn 2025 is live and ready for your perusal.
poems and essays, collages and paintings, batman and birthing, what more could you ask?

engenderedlitmag.com
The cover of engendered autumn 2025 on a background of dark grey. On the cover is a heavily textured painting by Jude FireSong consisting of layers of colour, first daubed or smeared, and then speckled. Dominant are red, orange, yellow, light blue, and medium blue though purple, green, and pink also make an appearance. Beside and below the cover is the following text: 20 writers, poets, & artists “as I move through the world, people project images of bodies and faces they assign onto me that evoke in themselves desire, lust, joy, disgust, emotions I have no say over. Perceptions against my will. And those images stain my skin and reek. I'm forced every day to carry those stains” - Thokozani Mbwana
November 18, 2025 at 2:55 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
ENGENDERED The Wish is the Approachable Secret Terracotta Woman Ain’t I? Sudocrem She wore blue check with red shoes His and Hers coups des corps Winter in the Womb Lost Waters Ursa Minor The Men I Date Love Chess More Than They Love Me monochrome My Journey Through the Battlefield of Venus Maternity iv my dying name mother pen name Supernova HIT LIKE A GIRL the (mis)use of broken things Baby Raise only child indignant resignation Diet Pep-cis, or my relationship to gender is • micro transgenderisms Goldilocks zone/Identity limbo knowledge is connected to the struggle: those who know truly know Tattoos = Gender ? components of a body culled MONSTERBODY UNDERWAY two-toned pitch emerge in which i am more than the sum of my parts November 18th
November 14, 2025 at 5:43 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
ENGENDERED Jessica Swanson Ali Charlotte Cosgrove Chantae Bryant Virginia Wardlaw Tukur Ridwan kathryn dooley Jaeden Lyttle Jude FireSong Ireisha Anindya Meg Mellor Frances Klein abigail klute Steven C. Wright Susie Whittaker Alex Cregan A. Deshmane JC Alfier Kimberly Renifler Thokozani Mbwana November 18th
November 13, 2025 at 6:20 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
ENGENDERED autumn 2025 'The Majestical Roof, Fretted With Golden Fire (Dyptich, B)' by Jude FireSong a textured painting of daubs overlayered with speckles in red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple 20 Contributors, 38 takes on gender November 18th
November 13, 2025 at 4:27 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
LAST DAY(ish)
engenderedlitmag.com
Last Day(ish) for Submissions!!! we start reading tomorrow so, if you’re last minute motivated, you’ve easily got till the end of the week. it’s such a fun time to be gendered! all these eyes on our bodies— these fists on our rights— are so fun and chill! our inbox is open for both love and anger; all genres, all genders. pseuds, anons, & pen names are always allowed engenderedlit@gmail.com
October 15, 2025 at 2:14 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
TWO WEEKS
the inbox is closing October 15th
engenderedlitmag.com
en*gendered Summer 2025 cover by Miša Hejná a sketch of a person with their torso comprised of splotches of menstrual blood. text: the inbox closes in TWO WEEKS look back, get inspired deadline: October 15th engenderedlit@gmail.com
October 1, 2025 at 3:11 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
the inbox is OPEN until October 15th
engenderedlitmag.com
en*gendered the inbox is open until October 15th text: the poets have rushed in (amazing!), now let’s get some essays. what do you love about gender/your gender? what irks you? who and what helps you feel more like yourself? gender and athletics. gender and sex. gender and mothers and fathers and friends. gender in this political moment. gender in history. gender role models and icons and rebels. music, movies, and media that hurts and that helps. self-finding monologues. truth seeking dialogues. the one thought that haunts you and won’t leave your head. if you’re unsure, just pitch it. we’re here to help engenderedlit@gmail.com engenderedlitmag.com
September 8, 2025 at 4:57 PM
en-gendered.bsky.social
“Magic, above all things, is not an animal.
Jam it in a cage and it will atrophy.
Give it freedom to roam and it will come alive.”
- Alice Scott, Spite
@allyscottauthor.bsky.social

Print: kithbooks.com/shop/p/youarenotyourbones
eBook: kithbooks.com/digital/p/youarenotyourbones
You Are Not Your Bones & Lesser Misfortunes Alice Scott cover: Volo, the protagonist of the titular story, stands in front of a window, the moonlight falling across them in the pattern of bones. text: “Magic, above all things, is not an animal. Jam it in a cage and it will atrophy. Give it freedom to roam and it will come alive.”
September 7, 2025 at 2:31 PM