By Kassandra Schreiber
Out of the dust, we appear in this
four-letter place and station ourselves
amidst jade lawns and swarms of birds
of paradise.
We sit back and see the moon slither
in front of the sun, slowly turning
two celestial bodies into one,
but all we really feel is cold.
A minute before the fall,
we watch the snakes on the sidewalk.
Look at them writhe, we say,
admiring their inconsistencies.
After it’s over, we lay in the grass
basking, soaking in the sun,
whispering with our two tongues
about returned warmth.
But we can’t stop thinking about the snakes.
Kassandra Schreiber graduated with a BA in Interdisciplinary Humanities in 2018 and an MA in Comparative Studies in 2022. She worked on the Poetry and Creative Nonfiction editing teams for Inscape Fall semester 2017 and Winter semester 2018.
