Thermal Shock

The house is settling into a quiet rhythm,

the kind that makes the clock sound like a drum.

I poured lukewarm water over the frozen tray

to make a drink I didn't really want anyway.

There was a sharp, sudden pop in the glass,

a violent sound for something so small.

One cube split right down its clouded center,

a white canyon where the heat forced its way in.

It’s a jagged kind of stress, a sudden change

that the structure wasn't built to sustain.

You think you're holding steady in the cold

until the world warms up and you break in two.