we’ll soon be swallowed up by the heat.

winter rolls off my shoulders,
replaced by a balmy spring
and the sticky press of uncertainty
we drift through a haze of days
where seasons waver,
as do hearts,
both unable to shake the feeling
of unease
this hot air clings,
making love to skin that still aches
for a breeze

– ashley jane

A Drowning Burn

I called your touch heaven, loved the way it felt as it shot through my veins.

You were a scorch-light, burn bright type of blaze —

the type of fire that steals your breath

and leaves you drowning in the flames

(I’ll never look at fire the same)