A tiny flame, a light
He sees a tiny light going out, a flame that should warm them up
Mrs 'Arrods stretches out like an ascending flare—
Over there in the corner a shadow is busy reading
Her bare unencumbered feet are much much too pretty
Short-circuit in the heating-system awaits
Engine breakdown
What electromagnet is still keeping it running
Arrods' eyes and his love are both to take the same cold road
A mere nothing
A spark they strike only to let it go out again sometime later
Arrods has had enough of the cold wind
He's had enough of the snowy sky
Essentially everything visible is artificial
Even his and her mouth - but heat on the breath is there
Despite the fact that Arrods warms up when her hand touches him
The bedroom door is wide open and in the Arrods enter
He sees her face in the dimmed light
Mrs A is so pale
One night it's all it took
Folk were laughing somewhere off in the distance
Under ths sheets to keep warm
Water in the pipes flowed by in perfect purity
Copper piping conducted the heat
And nine months later.
"Pull the bloody duvet over us, Mrs 'A'
There's going to be no central heating today."