It’s not an attempt to be bitter.
Let me define that quite clearly
it’s just a shattering home truth.
Like if you’d possessed a thermometer
and by some cruel hand of fate
you had been under the illusion
temperatures were having “opposite day”.

Because sparks of heat are lust.
And embers of dull home fires
that warm you through are love.
So it’s safe to say that neither one
if they had even been present
could quite make way for this instant
Arctic knowledge that you aren’t wanted.