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As we settle into winter, we’re thinking about warmth. 

 

It’s what we crave in these months of too-early sunsets and runny noses. What we want to share with and feel from others. Our bodies quite literally require it, but we are also facing a future with far too much of it. 

 

In our biggest issue yet, we are mourning the loss of our loved one’s warmth and welcoming the hot breath of newborns. Warm pee is glistening on our windowsills and pooling in our beds. We’re walking home in the cold and considering the deprivation of warmth without shelter. We’re seeing raccoons made drunk by climate change and loving our dogs. 

WARMTH

WARMTH

19-20

Welcome to our winter issue.

Keep warm with us.

After flossing, I light candles to blow out before bed.

When there is no choice but to face the wind and snow, it is life-shaping.

WINTER

Summer slipped away, and I adopted a pee jar which I would pour out the window come morning.

Did you hear about the drunk raccoons in central park?

You lay wrinkled and born, sprawled on the bed like a sleeping branch.

Asian pears were expensive and you had only one to give.

Scenes of warmth in Florida, Georgia, and North Carolina. 

When I need to pee, I like to do so at my own leisure, on my own time.

Even as you sit in a bathtub of your own filth, you don’t want to leave the warmth.

Should Bikram Yoga be cancelled?

Where Grandpa lives now is bright with bluish light, and the chair with the pop-out footrest is gone.

Shimmy through her coat of lilac clouds. Rest in her warmth. 

You are anything but cold, anything but prickly and angular.

Gathered by a fire. 

This year marks my twenty-fifth revolution around the sun. This year, I become a climate.

A year of warmth in Los Angeles. 

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