Tonight's Poet Corner: My Knight

My Knight
by Belinda Roddie

I knew when you hold me, I am not
warm - the steel encasing me is always
cold, clinging to fingers of frost as if
the grip brings it comfort. Once I'm able
strip myself of this armor, you will perhaps
feel the heat radiating from my core,
like a furnace, but softer, more pulsating,
more manageable against your shivering skin.

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