undone. You wear
my sweat like gloss upon your parted lips.
I’m you, and we’re
drowning in droplets that grant no succour.
I lead you where
this love should give us strength and lift us higher.
Yet here we lie, oppressed by our desire.
About this piece
This poem is part of the series Weather Our Souls, which explores the weather as a metaphor for the human condition. I worked with the twin meanings of the title in the form of a Cavatina, which seems to 'limp rather than flow'. This feeling of unsatisfying oppression persists as the sensual narrative is built over the acrostic base, humidity, and ties them together in the final couplet. Sultry was first published on Medium.com.