Centigrade

Her fingers slid under my skin,
Wriggled like maggots beneath my sweaty shell.

Insecurity, the condition my heart was in.

My body was in heaven, but my mind, in hell.
Warm hands, cold eyes.

Cold fingertips, warm thighs.

Each freezing touch on my boiling skin, sent
Shudders down my spine.
Face unclear, showing no intent.

Never was sure if she was mine.