CUT UP HEAT

 

Calvin breaths the haze

thinks about its engulfment.

What mask to wear

if all of the sudden the air waves clog.

Where will we all run for cover?

 

Four more days of sun

my arms begin to blister

a dark red rash.

Drench my skin with honey and salt

more like a salve then a train wreck.

 

To think about

touching in a heat wave

and skin falling off -

a dress unzipped, dropping

wrapped around my ankles.

 

Calvin and I sleep,

wait for the peace of an air planes breeze.

He's moving towards me

says he can't help being so close,

though his breath burns my skin.

 

I've misplaced the path,

lost my place in this apartment,

stumble on carpet.

I look for Calvin in the dark

guided by the map of his weather.

 

More months of swelter

and buildings melting into sand piles.

before the rain comes.

Calvin is a name I am speaking

when found, passed out on the kitchen floor.

 

Emily Crocker

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2 Comments

kevin kilroy's picture

I moved by this poem. taken to another world, other possibilities of body - recognition. A relationship seems to be dissolving from the inside out. This is where poetry needs to be.

great work's picture

I REALLY LIKE THIS

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