A Response

[elfcraft]

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
To that sweltering thickness of air
that makes me drown slowly
with each breath?
To the sun that blisters the world
under its furious gaze,
wilting once-supple leaves
and delighting as they curl
into fragile, thirsty parchments
the color of regret?
Or to the arid heat curling
from the concrete,
visible waves like ghosts' breath,
stealing the tongue from my mouth
and leaving a clumsy, dried toad in its place?
To the heat that crawls
down my throat, lodging itself
firmly in my chest,
making powder of my blood
and my defenses.

Comments

[bohemianlily.livejournal.com]

Favourite Line: "the color of regret." Wow. Seriously.

The sounds recreate the oppressive weight of Texas summers.

The first time I read it, I forgot about the first line and got caught up in the imagery. When I looked at it again, though, I thought--DAYUM, "a person you hate to love."

not, Not, NOT lame. I think I'd love to hear it read by someone with a noticeable but sophisticated Southern accent.