Sultry is the Breathless Air

No one lit a match. no lamp spilled, the air kept kindling its hot heart, it pulsed red all day The heat-heavy evening slumped toward a simmering earth, clouds began to roil, they swirled, they broiled in a death dance of fuming dragon tails, a wounded flickering that lashed out blindly. We laid down our souls, they were too hot to rescue. We were weary, too numbed to be either beasts or humans. When the sun slowly fell, carving its way through the dark rims of fiery hills, a smelter of sweating rain cut the strings of our voices and revived us not.