HEATWAVE

lightning spits from the mouth

of the sky, heaving in the

august heat; the horizon

growls like a dog, white

teeth snapping outside my

curtains at the heavy 

black air. earth's body shudders,

tossing and turning as she waits,

sweat clinging and eyes rolling,

for the fever to break. 

her back arches, veins steaming

into the atmosphere, and hot tears roll

involuntarily while we all

pretend to sleep.