The summer heat fell
pinning my chest to the floor.
My thoughts stagnated
but I held one clean image.
The romantic cool sip of lemonade.
Ice clinking in a glass, a clear heavy cold glass.
Not like the blue and white plastic that held my Kool-ade.
It was blue as well.
I could feel the dies coating my lips and tongue and throat.
But then everything clung to me.
A mass of sweat, oil, and blue Kool-ade
I laid on the floor thinking of
my lemonade.
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