In our cold little apartment

The windows are heavy with frost,
translucent and gauzy in the daylight.
In our cold little apartment
the rooms glow like an igloo,
soft, white and still.
Heat seems intangible,
how the bill comes later
in the mail enveloped and bundled,
how turning the thermostat is a delayed reality.
We are bundled
in clothes and blankets and each other.
Our reality is now
is undelayed.
We keep warm in the light
of our soft white rooms.