The heat squeezes my lungs,

thick and weighty,
yet all my new friends are stirring:
submerged frogs,
a dust-encrusted donkey,
vexed goats, tall as my ankles,
ruffled red-winged blackbirds
disappearing into the marshes,
memory-laden oaks.
Something in my chest twists,
and adhesion brings water
up my veins like capillaries,
sprinkling the dirt,
salt for another tongue.