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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