is that your
sweat puddle
or mine i ask her
as she rolls
over like a big
dog across
the bed. it's
so freaking hot
out that i've lost
the will to live,
and for you to live
too, she says.
leave me out of this,
i tell her. i love
this heat. give
me ninety to a
hundred degrees
any day over
below freezing
and snow.
you're ill, she
says, you must have
heat stroke. come
here and kiss me
you tell her
blowing a cool
breath of ice tea
flavored air into
her red ear
and she says get away
from me, don't touch
me. i'm melting.
see you in september
maybe, if you're lucky.
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