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

Liquid streams and chafes and never even
Cools
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