Cooling point

The sheets were soaked, a heavy drape,

clung to my skin, a second skin.

Then a shiver, no escape,

and a sudden chill, deep within.

The heat, it drained, a slow retreat.

My hair, damp ropes, stuck to my face.

The pillow, cold, a quiet treat,

a single cool, clear, vacant space.

No thrumming pulse, no fiery sting.

Just tired quiet, soft and deep.

A fragile peace, the body's thing,

the promise of a shallow sleep.