sky spat on me
several hundred times
and my heart felt soggy
as if the edges
could be smudged
by one more breath
it was early summer
and the heat tasted
like lead
in a metallic cylinder
but all I could imagine
was your red hair
as you drifted along
your lake of burlesque



It's an intriguing take on the prompt. I could never end up where you did. Best of luck in the contest, tough you probably don't need it. I can see this taking gold or at least silver. 


6 old applause
