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Melting

June 7, 2011

The distant ball of fire

Radiates heat

Beating down from the heavens.

Our skin becomes slick,

Shiny.

Fatigue sets in.

Drops roll down

The highway of our spinal column.

The air is still,

Thick,

Wet,

As we braise in our own sweat.

The dog’s tongue lolls

Out of his mouth.

The babes, whining and squirming,

Demand popsicles.

The Furnace,

Alone,

Broken,

Waits for its motor to be fixed.

The Air Conditioner,

Impatient yet

Gratified,

Is sorely

MISSED.

 

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4 Comments
  1. June 7, 2011 11:39 am

    “Drops roll down
    The highway of our spinal column.”

    Evocative image!

    • June 16, 2011 1:03 pm

      Thanks Willow. Unfortunately, it was the truth! That day it was a record breaking heat: 103. Thank goodness our furnace was fixed by noon so we could sleep that night!

  2. June 7, 2011 1:13 pm

    “braised” ! Love it!

    • June 16, 2011 1:04 pm

      That word always makes me hungry though…creepy, huh?

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