Last night I learned the earth is coldest right after the dawn

When all solar heat has finally drifted,

Waves of geothermal energy pulse and then lift from the surface

Like dead skin

I feel cold and light

As I peel the last of you from the tips of my fingers

Thumb prints give way and all that’s left are old ridges

Of the places I once touched

There is inherent knowledge in an object storing radiant heat, and

Then steam off the surface, the froth of loss

When the sun breaks gregariously; and even though it is every day;

rays reach like collarbones across the gaping chest of an unexpecting sky