Cheater


As you sleep and I hear your steady breath
the wind flings the slates from the roof and our house
is naked. Cold air roars through.
This is not the first time I have been wakened this way
but you do not stir, not even when snow
blankets our bed and our little cat creeps between us for warmth.

I wrap myself in the daisy gown you gave me,
nudge off the flakes, tiptoe to the kitchen. Make tea.
Electricity cannot thaw the raw meat I’m made of.
Gloves off. It’s time.

Hairdryer, paraffin, naked flames –
I take them upstairs and stand over you, burning the bed.
Our little cat yowls and scarpers. She’ll find another home,
one with fat prawns in a bowl, some dancing string,
tickles under the chin and someone not like you
who’ll know when to wake and who’ll turn to her love and laugh:
You fool. As if. Sweet dreams.