Wasting

The drug
turns sleepily in my veins like
a delayed echo of the thick
summer air around me.

I did not want this.

The traffic
beyond my window slows
to a standstill, crawls exhausted
along the sticky tarmac,

a journey to last for all time.

I can't stop
thinking of her who knew
you sooner and touched you
before I. Those jagged thoughts.

And now you have gone.

I long for
a cool drink to soothe the
burning that sears here while
I am numb and useless,

waiting for the day to flip around.