Dehydrated by an empty canteen, I can hear the drops at the bottom but can’t seem to shake them out, and my tongue is getting so dry, crackled like a gunslinger’s boot.
The sun is torture, and it’s here to stay, but what about you, are you staying too?
Lick my lips and it all but kills, so weak in these times of despair; my lungs need your damp air and like a fish, like a fish I’ve become addicted to your sweet liquid.
Need to drink you in, have to breathe you in, and forget to exhale, and you’ll drink me in, quench our thirst, inhale our scent; like cool cement we are content to be addicted to our liquids.
Want to bathe in our thick waters; encase our lungs in an aquarium with a castle made of sand, and poison the other creatures so we can swim in peace.
Overwhelm the tank, all that we can take, ‘til parallels begin to shake and our surreal liquids are their own **** sea, and let us float, and let us be,