Elizabeth Joy Levinson

Liner notes.

We listened to The Church
under a run-off bridge you lined
with votive candles,
stashed an old blanket,
but would not touch me more
than to keep yourself warm.
I didn't know about suppression.
I didn't know that I could touch myself.
It was cold and we were trespassing.
I thought you were supposed to
push me up against a wall.
I didn't know how any of this
was supposed to go. We were fifteen
and we just held each other
as the trucks rumbled overhead,
as winter crept into the water,
trimming it with sharp and frozen hands.

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Elizabeth Joy Levinson is a high school teacher in Chicago. Her work has been published in Whale Road Review, SWWIM, Cobra Milk, Anti-Heroin Chic and others. The author of two chapbooks, As Wild Animals (Dancing Girl Press) and Running Aground (Finishing Line Press). Her first full length collection, Uncomfortable Ecologies, will be published in the fall of 2023 (Unsolicited Press).