April

Oh, how my head pounds.
It's hot,
The Earth feels as if it were breathing
Scorching steam.
My body is sticky,
The folds of my dress clinging to my back like
Bone to flesh.
It's only April but the heat
Resembles a stifling August.
A bee bounces off the glass,
Fighting an invisible wall.
My temple pounds to its thuds.
No drug can cure this sickness.
I press my face to the glass
With the same desperation as the
Stripped insect.
Beads of sweat trickle down
My neck, my arms, my legs,
Every crevice, every surface.
Even breathing is too much,
The air chokes me,
My lungs expanding painfully,
Searching desperately for relief.

I desire nothing more than to drown
Myself in a lake,
That is alive with fish and
Abundant with river reeds.
The idea of stepping into
the lakes folds,
Sends desire down my spine.
Walking in the murky water
Until my toes barely touch
The gooey floor,
My face level with the
Water lilies.
I take one more step,
and disappear.

Damn that bee
For bringing me back to
This world,
The fiery heat.
I close my eyes,
Sweat trickles down my face,
Like a tear droplet
It falls,
Drying before it can reach the
Floor boards.
I wait for relief,
Nothing.
Thud, thud.
I breathe in the hot air once more.
Damn that bee.