Slowly and meekly she enters the pool/ These sweet dog days
After the Solstice
Slowly and meekly she enters the pool
These sweet dog days
No longer living in a fever dream of lover’s spit
But in the blissful auras of a feverishly hot day
She coughs at pollen but laughs heartily
Her skin is dry but she doesn’t wither
Her mouth is parched but her soul is rich
She is a desert flower
And so she was
And she became
And wandered.
The oasis was hers
And she was
A child of the sun.