484 – Morning

She dreams of clouds
And luscious rain,
Right before
The heat awakes her.

Her skin is wet,
But not from rain.
The sticky sweat
Clings to the sheets.

She opens a window.
Not to let the breeze in,
The air is dry and heavy,
But to let some the heat out.

The morning news,
In dramatic tones,
Keep talking about this
“Unprecedented heatwave.”

Sipping cold beer
From a chipped coffee mug
While munching on cold toast,
She half-smiles.

The skies on fire,
The boiling seas,
The four horsemen,
The final plague.

No need for any of that now.
Humanity had, for once,
Surprised both hell and heaven
By taking care of it themselves.

Well, you old fool…
She thinks aloud.
…I guess the monkeys beat you.
So much for Armageddon.

Closing the windows,
She turns the AC on,
Only vaguely wondering
About her carbon footprint.

She spreads her wings
And thinks of flaming swords,
While she lays naked
On the cold kitchen floor.

Waiting for me?
She turn toward the voice
And sees a naughty smile
Watching her from the door.

Don’t tempt me, little devil.

Don’t tease me, naughty angel.

They look into each other’s eyes.
The war of heaven against hell,
In a single kiss.

• • •

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