On how cold you were last night
by Kristina England
I slide a tray from the freezer,
pop each cube into a container.
You corner me at the sink,
press me against the counter,
your mouth hot on my neck,
your hands warming my hips.
I glance at the cracking ice
and think, It will freeze again.
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A hot poem with chilling irony, nicely done with the ice cubes, to underscore how moods and relationships can change.