An avid introvert, full-time carbon-based life-form & aspiring himbo, Ashley Cline (& watch how easily the jaw sings of god) crash-landed in south Jersey some time ago, & still calls that strange land home. A Best of the Net 2020 finalist, her poetry has appeared in 404 Ink, Okay Donkey, & Parentheses Journal, among others. Once, in the summer of 2019, she crowd-surfed an inflatable sword to Carly Rae Jespen, & her best at all-you-can-eat sushi is 5 rolls in 11 minutes. Twitter: @the_Cline. Instagram: @clineclinecline.






author photo
© James Cuartero


This book unmade me like only something feral can. There is yearning in these pages and music, too. There is something powerful about the way that space becomes a metaphor for longing, the hunger of the imagery, and how the jaw sings a love poem so sweetly. This book held me tenderly like only moon light can and reminded me of how heavy our ghosts can be.

— jd hegarty, author of the clearest blue