We've all cradled the ice
curled around the cold
in some bizarre mating ritual
searching the center
the deep glacial fog
that promises it's special
brand of anesthetized marriage
fighting the heat, the subtle melting
that thwarts your efforts as easily
as the housewife drives her
guilt in vacuum swipes room
for room until eventually
she gets to where
making love to the pain
seems as reasonable
as any angry fuck
between lovers
caught
in throws