Deckard Coradin - Media Credits

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] Hannah is sixteen, and she sees her friends begin to change their bodies. Nature has already given them breasts and hips, periods… Read More »Butterflies

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] She thought she would give birth in a world where Hawaii had been swallowed by the ocean where bear skeletons littered Arctic… Read More »Birthday

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] To wipe the past three years clean with one swish like dust on a carpet but the bitter taste in my mouth… Read More »Dust, honey, bullets

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] Sensitive, strong Confidence all-encompassing; Channelling my perfect imperfection Until my last remaining belief is in my own worthiness [special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pfooter”] [special_issue… Read More »Perfect imperfection

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] My  mental health dangles by a thread – weighed down by lost loves and the sparse foundation of my family unit. Fibre… Read More »The Thread

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] I have this tendency when I feel empty, to presume that there is something I can consume to feel complete. There is… Read More »Candy

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] White porcelain, deep and smooth like rocks weathered down by a river’s mighty palm running down its back for an eon of… Read More »The Dry Basin

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] Abram, my dearest brother, I’ve been at the Port of Cedars for two days now, safe and in high spirits, but unsure… Read More »Letters to Abram

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] They have circumcised my city and suddenly it is an unfamiliar shade of a colour I vaguely remember Now everywhere I go,… Read More »Lahore’s melancholy

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] Today the gold heart on the gold bracelet my mother bought me early in April beats as hard as my own during… Read More »Smith College, 1950

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] When we die and they cut us open they’ll find the fat from the fries we ate at one o clock in… Read More »Dissection

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pheader”] Jen made me clumsy. Before I met her, I was as well put together as anybody, but ever since we started seeing… Read More »The Miracle of Flight