[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”Advent Pro||||||||” text_text_color=”#000000″ global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||-2px|||” custom_padding=”0px||0px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”-50px|auto||auto||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”Josefin Slab||||||||” text_text_color=”#000000″ text_font_size=”16px” text_line_height=”1.5em” custom_margin=”0px||30px||false|false” custom_padding=”0px||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n
When my favorite aunt died, her daughter<\/span> We didn\u2019t take turns. We stroked the beadwork<\/span> When I was a teenager, I could hardly admire<\/span> The night after my cousin told us to choose,<\/span> [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.21.0″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”Josefin Slab||||||||” text_text_color=”#000000″ text_font_size=”16px” custom_padding=”14px||0px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Jane Zwart<\/b> teaches at Calvin University and co-edits book reviews for Plume. Her poems have appeared in <\/span>Poetry<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>Ploughshares<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>The Southern Review<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>The Threepenny Review<\/span><\/i>, and <\/span>The Nation<\/span><\/i>. Her first collection of poems is coming out with Orison Books in February 2026.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”1_3,1_3,1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”|auto|-100px|auto||” custom_padding=”0px||0px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”ncwn-logo” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_signup provider=”mailpoet” mailpoet_list=”Variant Literature|3″ title=”Subscribe to our Newsletter” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” form_field_background_color=”#000000″ form_field_text_color=”#FFFFFF” header_text_align=”center” header_text_color=”#000000″ background_color=”#FFFFFF” custom_button=”on” button_text_color=”#000000″ button_bg_color=”#FFFFFF” button_border_width=”6px” button_border_color=”#000000″ button_border_radius=”20px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_signup][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”81px||4px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n \u00a9 Variant Literature Inc 2023<\/em><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Vultures Jane Zwart When my favorite aunt died, her daughter went through her jewelry. It was not precious as rubies are precious. It was precious as strangeness is precious. Or time. We didn\u2019t take turns. We stroked the beadwork that would lie flat in our hands. We held glass up to the light. We told […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":159853871,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":" [et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Advent Pro||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" hover_enabled=\"0\" global_colors_info=\"{}\" sticky_enabled=\"0\"]<\/p> [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"||-2px|||\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"-50px|auto||auto||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"16px\" text_line_height=\"1.5em\" custom_margin=\"0px||30px||false|false\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px||false|false\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p> You\u2019re drinking the wax he\u2019s seethed for you, frothing the stained-glass flute in which his grandmother hoarded lavender talcum. Do you feel guilty yet? The wax is filmy with salt; not his first Saturday frittered with waiting on you, tilted towards the street. Last week the flat was cold and you chipped candles with a blunt butter knife. The bathroom door was bolted and he was asleep in the tub fully clothed, clutching the duvet corner between his knees, fabric stroked all night from ivory to sepia, and in the stairwell you crosshatched honeycombs savagely wanting to leave your mark, knowing you\u2019d fail. In the morning, he boiled your tea in a saucepan sprinkled with cinnamon and chilies. You couldn\u2019t remember where he kept the toaster. You\u2019d stolen a sack of sugar he didn\u2019t touch, but halfway down the lane you turned to watch him coiling from the window, sugar sack snug against his chest, then bisected with the tallowed knife, then exploded on the cobblestones. He was swarmed in seconds. You climbed on your bike and rode to the station. Do you feel justified yet? This week your lips have marbled; your bite stains him saffron. The bathroom door yawns; the tub empties. He\u2019s awake in the bedroom soaked in his skin. He\u2019s holding the duvet over his mouth with both his hands. The saucepan is full between his feet. Do you feel anything yet?<\/span><\/p> [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"16px\" custom_padding=\"14px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>
\n<\/span>went through her jewelry. It was not precious<\/span>
\n<\/span>as rubies are precious. It was precious<\/span>
\n<\/span>as strangeness is precious. Or time.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>that would lie flat in our hands. We held glass<\/span>
\n<\/span>up to the light. We told one another,<\/span>
\n<\/span>This would look good on you. My mom named<\/span>
\n<\/span>the occasions for which my aunt chose<\/span>
\n<\/span>a jasper ring, a pair of tiny chandeliers;<\/span>
\n<\/span>she remembered the vendor who clasped<\/span>
\n<\/span>my aunt\u2019s hand. Melanie chose us too.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>her enough, I could hardly admire her earrings<\/span>
\n<\/span>without leaving with them, strands of brass<\/span>
\n<\/span>and ceramic brushing my neck.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>I felt like a vulture, like I had let death make me<\/span>
\n<\/span>a profiteer, and I felt like I should have said yes<\/span>
\n<\/span>to every dangle and bangle no one else<\/span>
\n<\/span>would take. But then I\u2019ve always been one<\/span>
\n<\/span>of their number, a scavenger, the sort to see<\/span>
\n<\/span>a devastation and wonder what part<\/span>
\n<\/span>could be made to fuel my song.<\/span><\/p>\nTerracotta<\/b>
<\/span><\/h1>Lalini Shanela Ranaraja<\/h3>
![https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_image src=”](\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg”\"){kind=link}
![https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg”<\/a>; title_text=”ncwn-logo” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” positioning=”relative” vertical_offset=”50px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_signup provider=”mailpoet” mailpoet_list=”Variant Literature|3″ title=”Subscribe to our Newsletter” _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” form_field_background_color=”#000000″ form_field_text_color=”#FFFFFF” header_text_align=”center” header_text_color=”#000000″ background_color=”#FFFFFF” custom_button=”on” button_text_color=”#000000″ button_bg_color=”#FFFFFF” button_border_width=”6px” button_border_color=”#000000″ button_border_radius=”20px” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_signup][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” custom_padding=”81px||4px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.16″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n\u00a9 Variant Literature Inc 2023<\/em><\/p>\n[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Vultures Jane Zwart When my favorite aunt died, her daughter went through her jewelry. It was not precious as rubies are precious. It was precious as strangeness is precious. Or time. We didn\u2019t take turns. We stroked the beadwork that would lie flat in our hands. We held glass up to the light. We told […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":159853871,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"[et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Advent Pro||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" hover_enabled=\"0\" global_colors_info=\"{}\" sticky_enabled=\"0\"]<\/p>Terracotta<\/b><\/span><\/h1>Lalini Shanela Ranaraja<\/h3>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=\"1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"||-2px|||\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"-50px|auto||auto||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"16px\" text_line_height=\"1.5em\" custom_margin=\"0px||30px||false|false\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px||false|false\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>You\u2019re drinking the wax he\u2019s seethed for you, frothing the stained-glass flute in which his grandmother hoarded lavender talcum. Do you feel guilty yet? The wax is filmy with salt; not his first Saturday frittered with waiting on you, tilted towards the street. Last week the flat was cold and you chipped candles with a blunt butter knife. The bathroom door was bolted and he was asleep in the tub fully clothed, clutching the duvet corner between his knees, fabric stroked all night from ivory to sepia, and in the stairwell you crosshatched honeycombs savagely wanting to leave your mark, knowing you\u2019d fail. In the morning, he boiled your tea in a saucepan sprinkled with cinnamon and chilies. You couldn\u2019t remember where he kept the toaster. You\u2019d stolen a sack of sugar he didn\u2019t touch, but halfway down the lane you turned to watch him coiling from the window, sugar sack snug against his chest, then bisected with the tallowed knife, then exploded on the cobblestones. He was swarmed in seconds. You climbed on your bike and rode to the station. Do you feel justified yet? This week your lips have marbled; your bite stains him saffron. The bathroom door yawns; the tub empties. He\u2019s awake in the bedroom soaked in his skin. He\u2019s holding the duvet over his mouth with both his hands. The saucepan is full between his feet. Do you feel anything yet?<\/span><\/p>\u00a0<\/div><\/div><\/div>\u00a0<\/div>\u00a0<\/div><\/div>[\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.21.0\" _module_preset=\"default\" text_font=\"Josefin Slab||||||||\" text_text_color=\"#000000\" text_font_size=\"16px\" custom_padding=\"14px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>Lalini Shanela Ranaraja<\/b> writes about imperfect lives, best beloveds, and luminous worlds. Their poetry and prose has appeared in Calyx<\/i>, Channel<\/i>, Foglifter<\/i>, Wildness<\/i>, and others. Discover more of their writing at https:\/\/www.shanelaranaraja.com\/<\/a>.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div>\u00a0<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=\"1_3,1_3,1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_margin=\"|auto|-100px|auto||\" custom_padding=\"0px||0px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_image src=\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1.jpg\" title_text=\"Color-Print-Logo-with-full-text-1\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" positioning=\"relative\" vertical_offset=\"50px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_image src=\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg\" title_text=\"ncwn-logo\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" positioning=\"relative\" vertical_offset=\"50px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=\"1_3\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_signup provider=\"mailpoet\" mailpoet_list=\"Variant Literature|3\" title=\"Subscribe to our Newsletter\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" form_field_background_color=\"#000000\" form_field_text_color=\"#FFFFFF\" header_text_align=\"center\" header_text_color=\"#000000\" background_color=\"#FFFFFF\" custom_button=\"on\" button_text_color=\"#000000\" button_bg_color=\"#FFFFFF\" button_border_width=\"6px\" button_border_color=\"#000000\" button_border_radius=\"20px\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][\/et_pb_signup][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" custom_padding=\"81px||4px|||\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_column type=\"4_4\" _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"][et_pb_text _builder_version=\"4.16\" _module_preset=\"default\" global_colors_info=\"{}\"]<\/p>\u00a9 Variant Literature Inc 2023<\/em><\/p>[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>","_et_gb_content_width":"","_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","_crdt_document":"","advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-8717","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/PdfuLj-2gB","amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8717","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/159853871"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8717"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8717\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8828,"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8717\/revisions\/8828"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8717"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}](\"https:\/\/variantlit.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/08\/ncwn-logo.jpg”\"){kind=link}