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feverish
by Emily Perkovich
and i swore the snow was sand and it tore me apart and i lay crippled bleeding crimson and ice
into frozen beach craving the end and his skin burned the snow like the sunburn to my skin and
i saw him draped in black and i saw my feet scrape the sand and my hands rip the clothes from
him as he tore mine from my being and i saw our skin burning the beach steam rising and then i
remembered it was snow and i had only dreamt the fever after all
About the Author
Emily Perkovich is from the Chicago-land area. When she is not travelling she spends her free time with her family in the city.
From the Editor
Want more of Emily's work? Check out her website here or follow her on instagram @undermeyou.poet
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