Uncontrolled*

This liquid night.
In which the
Western Hemisphere
melts under a
northern leaning
jet stream.

Sweat beads
and drips down
down down
gathering in
small salty
lakes by her
toes. Toes
dripping melting
nail polish
bleeding into
the salty lakes.

Crimson lakes.

She wipes an
ice cube, the last
one left, across her
forehead and then
over the back of
her neck, savoring
the chill it brings.

The ice cube
quickly dissipates
and she, before
melting away herself,
writes one final
verse:

Did you know
I felt so low.

But you must know
that I love uncontrolled.

*Idea taken from previous work, 20 June 2006

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