I think this works


It is the hottest summer. Peach juice sprays
to cheeks and lips if I so much as lick
at sun-warmed skin that’s not even as thick
as tissue paper. It’s been hot for days

and weeks. I’m sitting just outside the room
where Pat is dying. She is going through
her list of close friends who need talking to.
She’s almost got to me. A sense of doom

hangs. And some day soon the heat will break.
Right now, no clouds. I sit beside the bed.
You know almost precisely what she said,
that I’d been drifting, and now had to wake

be honest, unafraid, must change and grow,
and be the woman that she’d never know

About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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5 Responses to I think this works

  1. xjenavivex says:

    and in the deep south of the US, I was being born.

  2. akadougal says:

    Last line is so powerful.

  3. deliasherman says:

    My mother died in 1974, in Texas, when it was hot and I was young and had a lot of growing up to do. So, yeah. It got me where I live.

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