When April felt like summer. It's my way of showing my love and frustration with nature. |
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. |