terms of surrender

i’ve never slept so well

in your arms

sun on christmas

almost as bright as the

light in your eyes

smiles and laughter and tears

———————————-

I thought it would be harder

More challenging

This transition of ours

The merging of lives

And hearts

Disparate and separated by the ocean

Of the past and our

Unfamiliar cultures. Colliding.

we’ve lived a lifetime

in just a few weeks

a preview of our complicated times

a safety that settles my brain

a comfort I have not known

I had envisaged a relinquishing

A loss as

Compromise

To the capital gains of

An us

To call our own.

A sacrifice of sorts.

Nothing good

Ever comes from

Nothing.

Not for me.

There are fees.

Always

A price to pay.

Too dear.

And a debt

Left dangling

From the debtors jaw.

———————————-

time is uncontrolled my love

so lets hang on and see

in the darkest month

its been the lightest I have ever

lived

————————————–

I had thought

There would be a giving in

Or up

On me

Payment for

Something more.

A less or

Lessened version

But

Christmas

Offered up

a funny gift.

Tied and bowed

It came wrapped by

Hands that match my own

Finger for finger.

The same skin.

Letting in doesn’t mean letting go.

Changing and growing

Is not a kind of death –

But a rebirth.

A new me

And you.

———————————-

i learned

an ease we were told no to

and a clarity in this love

i didn’t think it could be better

each day that passes

proves me wrong.

—————————————-

Daily.

Hourly we grow into each other

Becoming more

Not less of

Ourselves.

Learning to be greater than a part

Of a whole

That was missing.

Or waiting to be filled.

——————————

the future may be uncertain

But certain all the same.

These are the

Terms of Surrender.

Underland Updates
✒️ 🎤 👑 📜 🐔 🏰 😼 🤖
Face in the dark
AI face

The Underland Review

We are seeking:

  • Poetry that twitches
  • Microfiction that self-destructs
  • Essays with fangs
  • Visual art that shouldn’t exist
  • Redacted files, haunted code, cursed diagrams, scanned receipts from imaginary revolutions

We do not care about your CV.
We do not require polished bios.
Previously published works? Sure.
We do not pay (yet — sorry, capitalism).
But we do offer love, weirdness, and a spotlight.


✴ Featured contributors will receive:

  • A digital copy of the zine
  • Features on our site and socials
  • An invite to our glitch-lit open mic (date tba)
  • The deep satisfaction of being canon in a lie


Deadline: August 10th, 2025
Format: PDF or Word for text. JPG/PNG for art. Max 1 piece per person.
Email: riverandceliainunderland@gmail.com
Subject line: This submission is a lie – [Your Name]

We don’t tolerate bigotry, AI slush, or boring work.


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