We drink dust through cracked lips
swallowing nosily.
Our skin hangs in loose folds,
dull, flaking,
bones ache, joints rub against one another
with soft, scraping sounds.
We stand lighting matches in the fire,
dreaming of rain.
For November PAD.
I can see that day, but mostly, through your words, I feel it too.
ReplyDeleteA drought that would sure make one shout
ReplyDeletewhew...all dried up....got to watch playing with fire at that point...it might all burn to the ground...
ReplyDeletePowerful and scary imagery.
ReplyDelete"Lighting matches in the fire" can be fun!
ReplyDeleteLike getting slapped in the face because if feels so good when it's over, maybe.
Now I feel parched.
ReplyDeleteVery expressive series of images, Mary--and excellent work with the metaphor.
ReplyDelete