NOTE: THE ACTUAL PIECE IS AN AUDIO. AVAILABLE FOR LISTENING UPON REQUEST. 
SWFL

Not 
            all
                       heat 

is created equal.
Dry heat is humid heat’s unforgiving step sister.


Humid heat caresses your skin — 
It tussles your hair,
Like being touched by someone who loves you,
Leaving you with a glow that you

just 
                             can’t 
                                                            hide.

Dry heat isn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back.
It’s the whip that lacerates skin.
The once merciful sweat,
Now a distant memory.

Humid heat is familiar:
It feels like home.
It’s the family you itch to have independence from.

Dry heat is the loneliness of that decision, 
Every evaporating phone call feels foreign — 
Voices? Now a vapor.

Maybe tears are a manufactured kind of humid heat,
Bringing you to your knees in defeat.

But then you’ll be grateful for dry heat destroying most of the evidence,
Except for bloodshot eyes.

Sleep will take care of that.