The steady hum of the radiator
Is now our only constant.

Your angry heart is coursing blood so quickly you’re colored red,
Thumping so audible that the dog confuses the tremor for an earthquake,
He’s barking,
You’re barking.

My own has shattered into such a sadness that it is skipping beats
Akin to the now wrecked records splintered on the floor,
They’re past scratched,
I’m past scratched.

The radiator didn’t acknowledge the war,
The radiator stayed as steady as a surgeon’s hand,
The radiator didn’t realize we needed to cool down,
But, oh, how I wish that heartless thing did.