don’t shout or scream their tonsils raw
don’t need lozenges to cool the burn

Because they’re in the subzero
of icy shoulders
biting cold

It’s not something you can thaw
Thaw with the heat of
Microwaved instant comfort foods -
Pastas and pizzas that are
flavoured to hypersensitivity
to season a cathartic grief

And you find yourself hiccuping
in puddles of saccharine cream
Even the ice cream cries for you

Because in the end we’re all just

In the lukewarm.

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