Cooling It

I’m totally one more give out old man--- Trying to cool it . I don’t have anything left to hurt for an encore. Naked to the waist with my coveralls splayed over the chair back—drying. The hot breeze mellowing over my torso like the dancing fingers of a masseuse. Afraid to merely hint at a touch for fear of destroying the mood. The hot breath scorching the surface faster than evaporation occurs. I don’t remember 103 affecting me like this in the past. Maybe hotter. I don’t know, but I can’t take this heat any more. Back over my shoulders go the now half dry clothes Intending to go back into that infernal place and work a bit longer but God only knows, I’m already one strung out mess. I think I’ll sit here just a few minutes more I’m totally one more give out old man--- Trying to cool it . I don’t have anything left to hurt for an encore Jul 26 For Rambling's "Gosh that was fast" contest