b. pick | poetry | Laurasia


The moon always seems brighter over the Atlantic. I try not to think about
How, every year, the tectonic plates pull you an extra inch and a half away from me. 

I think of us like parallel lines. We’re following the same path, but we’ll
Never meet. I’m still learning how to live in a world where I’ll never touch you. 

You tell me to stop trying to find the answers in the stars. You’ll never 
Admit how much it aches, knowing that we can’t see the same set of constellations.

Today, I read that two hundred million years from now, the continents will collide
Again. I wonder how many stars will burn out before our paths might finally cross.

Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram

b. pick is a lesbian poet, an earring maker, and an incoming PhD student at Western University. b.’s poetry focuses on road trips, falling out of love, and deserted places. Their work has recently been featured in SAPPHIC, The Madrigal, and Pile Press, among others. You can find b. on Twitter at @_bpick or Instagram at @b__pick.