HEAT

the heat cut through
like a knife to butter
soft, yellow, puddling and
the mirage up ahead, lead one to believe
there was water- somewhere to be found
which brought further confusion
-despair, when the mirage turned up dry

by Michael Perry

When I think of you

I think shampoo and strawberry ice-cream

weekend tangerine sunrises

atlas of freckles and new rain on cheeks

my hole-strewn t-shirt against your skin

so it’s like I’m there with you, almost