Stories My Body Can Tell by Alina Sichevaya   My mama used to tell me I was born screaming, sticky, and uglier than every sin she’d ever known, which was all of them. I still like to remember that. Gives me a warm feeling in my stomach. Especially when it looks like I’m about to die the same way. I’m remembering it now. My throat feels skinned, but on the inside, and my lips stick to each other, the blood from my nose drying over them. It’s definitely broken, and one of my lips might be split. One of my eyes is swelling shut. I’ve had worse—I’m not exactly dying—but it hurts to breathe, and my ribs feel like they’re falling to pieces inside of me. They probably are.   [Full story after the cut.]     Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip Episode 62! This is your host, Keffy, and I'm super excited to share this story with you. Today we have a GlitterShip original, "Stories My Body Can Tell" by Alina Sichevaya and a poem, "Daddy Death" by Jeana Jorgensen. This episode is part of the newest GlitterShip issue that is now available. The Spring 2018 issue of GlitterShip is available for purchase at glittership.com/buy and on Kindle, Nook, and Kobo. If you're a Patreon supporter, you should have access to the new issue waiting for you when you log in. The new issue is only $2.99 and all of our back issues are now $1.49. GlitterShip is also a part of the Audible Trial Program. This means that just by listening to GlitterShip, you are eligible for a free 30 day membership on Audible, and a free audiobook to keep. If you're looking for an excellent book to listen to, check out Hild by Nicola Griffith which is a historical fantasy about the youth of St. Hilda in 7th century Britain. The book is full of lush historical descriptions and the sometimes brutal life of a young woman with extraordinary gifts. To download Hild for free today, go to www.audibletrial.com/glittership — or choose another book if you're in the mood for something else.     Jeana Jorgensen is a folklorist, writer, dance, and sex educator. Her poetry has appeared at Strange Horizons, Liminality, Stone Telling, Enchanted Conversation, and Mirror Dance. She blogs at Patheos (https://www.patheos.com/blogs/foxyfolklorist/) and is constantly on Twitter (@foxyfolklorist).     Daddy Death by Jeana Jorgensen   Death is just.Death is fair.Death was ours firstand still he loves us best. I only had one father that mattered:Daddy Death, godfather to lost boys like mewho arrived alone and quaking, newborns at the gatesof the club, too new to know our language, our customs. I was Daddy Death’s favorite, strong and young,a pup lapping up rules and adoration and learning so quicklyto spot our kind in the waking world:the closeted businessman, father of four;the baker, the lawyer, the burly school bus driver;and more politicians than I could count.I eyed them all, a specter of Daddy Death in my visionnodding, as if to say, he is one of ours,he belongs to our underworld,if only he’d let himself. Daddy Death is fair and even-handed with all(even me; especially me)bears and pups and dykes and moremeting out punishment when deservedbut oh so tender, so gentle with aftercare. That was before the rumors,the slow illness preying on us;whispering grid, gay, go awayand the clubs closed as the body count rose. Aging monarch on shadowy throne:Daddy Death lasted longestbut stopped going out(except for the appointments)and I was his messenger boy.I, who passed well enough in the straight world;I, who charmed all the pharmacists;I, who could still see unerringlywhen I meet a man thathe is one of ours; he may yet escape the plaguethough Daddy Death looms over his bedeach night, an invitation, a warning,a man whose heart can hold us all. Love is a door, love is a dungeonwhere a tender man presses paininto your skin and shows you to yourself. Daddy Death waits for me in the next worldwhile I do his work in this one, shepherding boysso young to be in so much pain, but so was I at that ageand now we k