You need not fear the cold much longer;

the seasons of the world are changing,

they are structures collapsing

and will be gone by midnight

as if by tidal wave.

You see, the walls keeping things apart,

they won’t hold much longer. 

Soon the sun will come to warm our bodies

ceaselessly year-round,

thus causing  oceans of missed pleasure

to announce their presence

greeting us

tasting of winter

and smelling of soap.

They’ll begin by kissing our necks and nipples

and lap and lap against the shore,

returning ever steadily–

and yet, between sun and burning sand

there is space unlimited to grow.  


by Jessica Lieberman   



Jessica is currently studying poetry at Kenyon College. She has studied under Daniel Mark Epstein, Thomas Hawks, and Jennifer Clarvoe. She works as an intern for the Kenyon Review.

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