the feverish heat spreads in your palms to your parched, uneven inhalations, like jagged lines marring a once blank page, the silence hanging in the air.
crystalline ice reflecting a morose stare- you reach out in the mirage of heat, hoping against hope to meet cool condensation on skin incendiary in the flame contained within, if only--but it is all but a midsummer night's dream, and you grasp nothing but an unclearing heat haze before your eyes, fading to nothingness, empty as the premise of hydration.
the covenant of rain, you wish, would be fulfilled at that very moment in time.
(your hope is in vain.)
YOU ARE READING
a litany of ruminations
Thơ ca{poetry collection} s c a t t e r e d dreams and drifting thoughts, oh, not everything is what it seems... (not necessarily from my own thoughts)
