Climbing into bed in the cold snap,
lungs like the tinsel-covered trees outside,
nature’s winter decoration;
baubles of snow splintering from frozen branches,
the grass beneath a mass of white worms
static-crawling.
Britain from space a titanic iceberg, sinking spirits,
snapped from Europe’s bough.
A pool of ice at the bottom of the bed
turns toes inwards,
foetal, blue thoughts withdraw towards
inner warmth;
memories of holding you,
face nestled in my neck,
breathing the scent of your hair;
hail! ‘heart squeezy’ feelings;
ounce by ounce your lingering heat,
wrung free, thaws me.
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