Sodium

The radiator hammers a rhythmic, hollow beat.

The floorboards are cold beneath my feet.

A cramp in my belly, a knot in my side,

is a hunger I can no longer hide.

The metal is sharp, a silver tooth in the dark.

The pull-tab snaps, leaving a jagged mark.

A hot, stinging line opens up on my thumb,

before the rest of the finger goes numb.

I don't bother to heat it, I don't use the light.

The kitchen is heavy with the weight of the night.

On the surface, the rings of orange grease settle,

waiting for me in the cold of the metal.