Welcome to Unsaid
Most likely you found us by losing your way. Good for you. One needs to become lost from time to time, especially when seeking what can only be found in one's inmost hidden room. Look around in the rooms in here. Maybe you'll find something both strange and familiar. Touch it. Smell it. Taste it. Then take what you see and take it apart. Smash it. Crush it. Then scatter the pieces. Now follow each scattered piece. You will lose your way again. And again. But keep following the scattered pieces. After some time you will see them for what they are. You will follow what is yours and you will learn to call it home.
current issue! no.3
"We are the bedridden holier-than-thou. We think bright swans and cut-stone walls. We say brooking and bawdy and mean it. With the milk comes grace. And this is your ankle and this is what I can scarcely comprehend. And here is an account of the maiden, fair maiden, who spits out earth, eats air and water."
issue no.2
"She was sended down from hidden spas the globe her cherrystone and her work was a feather up against the skin we shed and then her strong heart one morning came into a flourish gone mad inside its own madness like two painted birds gone berserk for the same kivver..."
issue no.1
"He needed an unlashing, and a scooping too by now, had he been an animal. He needed leaving for a while under the house until the sun got to him even under there and we began to feel the stink coming up from under the rug my mother might have beaten into cleanliness."