Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Cloying heat wraps around,
Burying me like clay in a too-warm

Liquid streams and chafes and never even
Anymore. And the air is

Aflame. This is a summer of
Discontented breezes and riotous light.
Not even the leaves can

Wave in the air, but hang limp;
Verdant on the corner of vision.
I dream of snowflakes

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