top of page

CHRISTINA MARIA KOSCH | self-portrait (of instability) through color

in terra-cotta,

you are wooden church pews and dirty

hands pressed together, dead

leaves in rusted sky, wilted,

armless sunflowers

in amber,

we are naked bodies in five o’clock

december sun, tiny hands cupped

around christmas lights, morning

on hardwood floors

in azure,

icy willow, limbs heavy

shrugged shoulders, reflection of sky

on disrupted water, the acres of monotonous snow

in garnet,

velvet sheets, painted

walls, blood

flowing, burning morning, burial

roses, bleeding cuticles

in asparagus,

eye level

with a grasshopper in uncut grass, frog

legs, outspread banana leaves

in persimmon,

a tiger lily, flames

of a fully fed fire, translucent honey

on raw skin

in onyx,

You are



Christina Maria Kosch is a recent graduate from Washington and Jefferson College, but is itching to get back into academia asap. She is using her gap year to write and edit until she is sick and tired of seeing her own words (which is happening now). She wants to be an English Professor one day and is a big fan of lime seltzer.


bottom of page