the value of a warm body

It was
absolutely
the value of a warm body.
The equalizing weight
on the other side of the sheets.
The body heat,
the presence.
Nothing left
of any semblance of anything;
always simmering rage,
just under the crust,
waiting to ignite
and spew searing agony at my face.
But he was there
always.

Now they fade and reappear like holograms
now you see 'em....
now you don't.
Heat, flash of passion,
smoldering kisses, warm butterfly words,
filling me for a moment before flitting away
to another willing ear.

The value of a warm body...
the value of my pride, my loneliness,
staring down the face of a tundra of forever.

In a jar I kept it,
safe from his wrath,
and I fear it's nearing expiration.
So fragile, my heart,
so frail,
and the pieces are beginning to chip away,
every time one of them
touches my face while carefully avoiding my eyes.
Doors shutting inside,
shutting down,
losing hope, losing faith,
calculating the value of a warm body.