Cold

I took my own temperature. And there was nothing good about it. Am I sick or just dead? The temperature decreases. I took my dog outside. He likes to take a walk. It is cold. Stiff limbs, but I walk. I talk to the neighbors. Frozen. Not shivering. Moving my arms energetically. The temperature decreases. So I went back inside. I took my temperature again. Something, something within. Inside, I am withering. Arms slithering. I think it’s cold. Or maybe it’s just bold. Like bold coffee. From a smiling coffee tree. The coffee maker laughs at me. And produces only iced coffee. I sip. In the early morning. Looking at the clock. It gets earlier. I take my temperature. It is early. And cold as iced coffee. I take my own temperature. There was nothing.