summertime madness

the greenhouses have lifted their skirts

breathe dust breathe

and every day grows hotter
as i'm sweating out my dry longing

ocean extruding through pores,
skin oozing promises and soothing words.

tastes like salt.
and that lingering aftertaste is melancholy

the sun dances and roars laughter
maybe she's leaving -

breathe dust

breathe

.