June 25 by Kathryn Bianco
Lying on bed, sheet crushes my shape.
I don’t want a sheet.
Even though the air is fresh.
I am the only warmth within these walls.
I breathe out that smoke, that once amused me;
A merciless reminder.
The moisture escaping my mouth, still I salivate.
Someone once told me I moved lots in my sleep,
From foetal position,
Stiff, to liquid.
Maybe my dreams are a constant search
For warmth –
Maybe when it gets too hot, I fear the fire.
Maybe I’m an ungrateful human being who doesn’t appreciate the present:
Wants summer in winter, wants winter in summer.
I don’t know. All I know, is that right now
It is Winter.
This poem is one of the chosen entries for DESA’s Valentine’s Themed Poetry Competition.