Enough

Those dog days of summer, where the
Heat turns sweat into glue and you melt
Into

Fabric, like hard candies only partially
Suckled by a child.  And then
Left

Forgotten and
Rotting in the
Heat.

And there is never enough
water

And lips hunt, parched, for
Summer romances like
Juicy melons sticky and bursting

With sweetness
And sweat mingles and stale whispers
Perspire against flushed cheeks.

And there is never enough.

Author's Note

I wrote this in Aug '08