Heat Exhaustion

the noon
cooks appetites
away,
cold nights
turn
long days.
how we forget
what was said
and happy lines
are misread,
until it is biter
and disillusioned:
admitted confusion.
wicked tongues
that let nothing free
pin wicked desires
to pine trees,
why can’t we just say
we only want to fuck,
when the affection
sits down, stuck?
these foolish symbols
made from sounds,
interpreted:
the teeth of hounds,
a bite
or a bark.
let it be dark,
interpretation is an art
that revolves
outside of me,
we give away words too free,
being what not to be.
it seems fantasies
are better left as is:
quadratic equations
tied to beds.
we scream out loud:
let nothing go unsaid!
and in my head,
the thoughts abound,
could it be turned around?
was it just bad luck,
to give short shrift
to caged ducks
who really want to be free?
we’ll never understand
their honesty.