the whole sky feels like the inside of a tent during a downpour.
Humid, amorphous feeling like the blobs of dew trapped between the tent's outer
skin and the fly you spent so much time skittering with. Several fucks screamed.
The week continued gurgling with moisture laden in the air wrecking up-dos
Frizzing curls seeping through the holes worn into formerly nice boats
Warm, safe, and dry. The landlord promised that. But in the basement like an email
Sent to all. Water torrents into every corner lifting onion jars full of dry wall anchors.
The week continued with you rolling away from me in bed
Wispy hurt light that barely brings us into focus but the turn in the mattress
Cascades blankets and sheets to your corner. Have a good day.
The air outside demands cover and hiding under waves of cloth alone.
The week continued permeated and sogged
Boggy lake monster weather, vines hanging bandoleer over shoulders
Students raced erratic drips against each other
Pay attention. Reset. Back to your paper
The week continued overflowing
Potted plants left on the porch
Balls of roots and Styrofoam filler skimming the beveled surface
The books from abandoned hobbies curl up in the water agonized
For being forgotten and twine tied for recycling.
The week ended hurt
Soaked, exhausted, spent, dripping
When the sun rose steam
cooked off the shingle roofs
blistering away everything
that happened. Reset. Back to your paper
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| Source: Pexels, Sabel Ahammed |
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