Bless you, my peach, thank you for waiting.
I know you miss those juicy sunbeams
dripping through your velvet hair.
Are you frozen? A stone for a pit?
I’m sailing from Ushaia down down
to bury my toes in Antarctic snow.
My peach, my love, tell me I’m not
too late. Tell me snow still covers
the South Pole. Tell me you’re not
rotting—my love, my sweet, don’t let
the worms tunnel through your flesh.
I’m coming, my peach. And soon I’ll slide,
my penguin belly slicking the snow,
and press my lips to your frosted fuzz.
K.A. Nielsen (she/they) is a U.S. writer living in Sweden. Their work has appeared in Milk Candy Review, Janus Literary, Fusion Fragment, Sledgehammer Lit, voidspace, the Bullshit Lit Anthology, and elsewhere. They are on the internet: www.kanielsen.net and @_kanielsen_.