winter heat

it's about seven am in

central November, when

ice manifests on steps and the

sounds are toned down by

white piles
lying

out on the ground.

her

tired eyes met those

mounds where she'll

eventually tread, some

seven hours ahead of now -

but for now, just
rest...

resting on a

twin bed at ease, her

head sets on his chest,

nestling,

surrounded by

red lights and a

dressing of fleece;

above it, at least, is

seven degrees less than that of the sweat of

bred heat

met beneath.

see, the temperatures

read differently between, and,

just between you and me, some

zealous squeal revealed a

brief trip to ecstasy and

concealed the

best hit of 2.7183, slightly prior to this ordeal...

mealless, he'd wondered if

ordering sweet peaches between

spreads of pasted marmalade will

leave his taste buds in a daze,

so he

grazed the barren landscape, searching for

traces that might lead him astray, to a

temperate and eventful place where

he might be able to stay, perhaps a

waterway to

waste away the rest of his day...

___

seven + seven + seven = 2 + 7 + 1 + 8 + 3 = 21

2.7183 ≈ e