Deity of Heat - Cheryl Wood Ruggerigo

[highlyeccentric]

Late summer — she feels lazy.
Haze, her idle maundering, grays ridges,
edges horizons brown.
Yawn — her breath stokes
smoke from brush fires in the hollows,
mellows sun. She spills
milk, hot and white,
bright across the sky from her breasts,
rests her arm on noon so the iced glass sweats,
bets listlessly with imps of the electric grids,
bids on one to break.

Awake, she hums cicadas' fat green drone.
Alseep, she dreams far asphalt’s diesel groan.

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Published in the current issue of Goblin Fruit.