90° September Days

The air hangs heavy and thick -

Everything seems so far away. I could cut it with a knife. 
— Ava

Nevertheless - we drink hot coffee and tea.

We come home and bake; cookies, chicken, sweet potatoes.

We fill the house with heat and open the doors to let the thickness in.

Waiting - for the weather to break. 

Bogged down by the weight of deadlines and dirty dishes - the leaves have started to turn.

Now we lay in the wake of the fan without covers or clothes. It's too hot for sex - so we talk. We stare at the ceiling - at feathers and photos - and talk about where life could take us, unaware of the wax of the candles bleeding across the sheets. 

Let’s find some land and we’ll build a farm - with apples and peaches and a chicken coop. And everyone will be there. We’ll work hard, but everyone will be there.
— Nate




Ula KleinComment