Sunday July 22 2012
As I melt and disintegrate in my puddle of sweat,
I dream of winter, where
brains don't fry
motivation doesn't wither
ambition doesn't shrivel
ice cubes in your iced tea last longer
there are no bugs bugging horses
there are no bugs that, no matter how tight you keep your doors shut, swarm your lights at night and discourage you from reading, and leave a coating of bugs on your desk (table, sink, bed) in the morning like a dusting of black powdered sugar
rattlesnakes are huddled in dens dreaming of summer, instead of laying beside trails rattling and hissing at your horse
Lightning storms don't strike fear in hearts and fire danger doesn't exist
It's too damn hot to do anything but close my eyes, and dream of winter. Please, Winter, come early!
