Hot Texas heat scorching sand into remnants

of sea glass, ocean marbles left from water sucked dry,

salty crystals dotting the landscape, twinkling zirconias

on a sandy blanket rippling down the dunes between

cacti with arms held high in anticpation, praying for the rains

to come.

Thunder clap.  Hot breath flowing from between Hell's lips,

blowing chapped kisses on a lone figure crawling on hands

and knees through waves of hallucinagenic condensation

rising like serpents, hypnotic serpentine steam, licking

a face and leaving residuous stinging in each eye.

No refreshment in sight.

Oasis.  She sits in white gold, purifying her lines one

cup at a time, sweet surrender where heat meets wet,

sun bathing skin into deeply tanned tones and bleached

blonde melodies playing against the hard swallow of a

parched gulp of air and reaching.

Outstretched burned hand motioning I Thirst in sign language,

imagining the pleasure of one sip, one droplet on windblown

lips, the ecstasy of which assures all who doubt that there is

such a thing as heaven on earth.