temperature Soma I sleep beneath a pile of wool and furs that makes me think of the first people. Tucked away in my dark cave, all the curtains drawn tightly shut at night to trap in what little warmth is gleaned during their opening to the sun. I light a candle to let me eyes absorb the concept of its warmth, electric lights efficiently giving the room none. I haven't had the ability to properly heat my house in three years. Digital mouths and words spell out a bitter winter that lingers on. The buzzy heat of my electric blanket gives way to a sweater gives way to a shirt gives way to thermals and below all that I give way to the cold that no mercury will ever chart. 221109 what's it to you? who go blather from