Ariel K. Moniz

Ariel K. Moniz (she/her) is a queer Black poetess and Hawaii local currently living abroad. She is a co-founder of The Hyacinth Review, and serves as a poetry reader for The Lumiere Review as well as the social media manager for Liminal Transit Review. She is the winner of the 2016 Droste Poetry Award and a Best of the Net nominee. Her writing has found homes with Blood Bath Literary Zine, Sledgehammer Literary Journal, Black Cat Magazine, and Sunday Mornings at the River Press, among others. She holds a B.A in English from the University of Hawaii at Hilo, where she once served as the editor-in-chief of Kanilehua Art & Literary Magazine. You can find her on her website at kissoftheseventhstar.home.blog, on Twitter @kissthe7thstar, on Instagram @kiss.of.the.seventh.star, or staring out to sea.

23 Articles Published | Follow:
March Favorites: Women’s History Month
February Favorites: Self Love & Black History Month
Happy New Year! Reintroductions & Our January Favorites
Letter From The Editors: Reflections On 2022
November: Our Picks For NaNoWriMo
October: Our Month In Favorites
Painting of a valley with a small house surrounded by pink blossoming trees. A snowy mountain range can be seen in the distance
Letter From The Editors
A black and white illustration of a man draped over his horse, a crow follows them
The Black Death
A bright red hilly landscane, with a spine in the foreground
Truth and Bone
Small white stitched doll, it's missing a head and its left leg. A knife is wedged between the breasts
Bitten
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Translated into English by Alan Bern. "L'infinto" by Giacomo Leopardi. In public domain. Infinitudes Teno's thought Leopard's hill A thick child's finger measures the endless lines between the hatches on the wood rule, dizzy from counting in another language. Later, shorn sheep jumped the trimmed hedge, landing back, lambs again, pranced off on a measured rack toward a deeply colored sun, rising or falling, dark enclosing the child like a lid. The Infinite Always dear to me this solitary hill and this thicket that screens out much of the view of the farthest horizon. But sitting and gazing out, I frame in my mind endless spaces beyond and silences that surpass anything human, and a deep stillness; there for a single beat the heart is not afraid And as the wind comes murmuring among these plants, I begin to compare that infinite silence to this voice: and recollect eternity and the dead seasons past and the present one alive before me. and her sound. So in this immensity my thinking goes under and sinks and this ship going down is sweet to me in this sca.
L’infinito
Painting of a suburban house with a factory in theh distance
The Air Is Green
Marginalia
Inheritance
Following In Footsteps