JUNE IS ON FIRE

June knows the heat is just a metaphor.

Another way to say I won’t survive the

season. But I’ll spend what time I have

left with the sun. Drinking straight from

a cactus and watching all the flowers wilt.

Summer is far more lethal than any sword.

The petals fall. My skin glows. I am an ember

and everything is on fire. This kindling heart

of mine longs for the West Coast, for a forest

fire that can put my flames to shame.