The plunge

A love poem published in the 2026 edition of The Endicott Review

Standing on the riverbank, wearing nothing

but a bra and underwear.

Goosebumps traverse my skin

as snowflakes land on my face, shoulders, 

belly. 

Our towels lay on the rocky ground, 

a safe haven for our discarded clothes. 

My toes lose all feeling

in the rapid water, 

turning red 

and then a deep blue.

You take my hand and in we go, 

our hearts running faster than our feet. 

The water overtakes us. It’s paralyzing. 

We can do nothing

but breathe. 

We huff and puff until our bodies go numb, 

Our breath fogging before our eyes.

Water drips from our lashes

as the air warms the flesh, 

Stones topple beneath our calloused feet.

Our lungs burn with each laugh

drunk from pure ice

Cars fly past, drivers rubbernecking

at the stupid teenagers on the riverbank.

Your arms are the sauna 

my skin yearns for. 

One look from you 

and I’m ready to dive in.