Cooling/Warmth by Lauren Neville Hennessy


Shard of silver feels cool against my skin until,

Warm crimson gushes,

Colours my sheets,

Like red wine staining a new tablecloth,

My fingers, trembling with cold,

Brush over my thigh, cut to ribbons


I drift into slumber,

A crisp morning awakes me.

Outside there is a new world,

Much like the old, but glaringly white as if dusted with sugar and disturbingly empty.

Free of birdsong and engines humming, it has frozen over.

New silence rings in my ears, deafening.

Sharp air hits my bare skin and

 I long more than ever to stay safe and warm in my nest

 but now it too has been bitten by frost.


Flesh throbs, red hot.

Still weeping scarlet tears.

My hands glisten with a sheen of cool sweat,

Fearful that she will see,

Sheets stained with blood she shares with me.