I get these hot flashes – ladies of a certain
age will know what I mean – when blood
sings through my body like molten copper
and I must rip off all my clothes
!! immediately !!
or die. Which is a problem
in the supermarket.
It can also unexpectedly be a problem
at 2am when I awake on fire,
totally tangled in flannel pants
a sweatshirt
a zippered hoodie
a bathrobe
two blankets
and a cat.
Because I get these cold flashes – those same
ladies will know what I mean – where blood
crackles through my body like iced saltwater
and I must pile on all the clothes I own
!! immediately !!
or die. It’s awkward, this temperature swing,
from one extreme to another, barely pausing
in the temperate zone. Exhausting.
Sometimes embarrassing. Wardrobe challenging.
In the same way grief burns and freezes me in turn.
Exhausting and embarrassing to peel off or pile on
layers of myself, almost without pause.
Looking for the sweet spot.
That temperate emotional state.
And not quite finding it --
Yet.