Tunica

Oh, these August babies! All hot in their mother’s womb. Like a vacation in hell, but you like it. I’m sure that the croupier’s hair is teased to hide the horns beneath. I’ve spent too much. Now in the bedroom, I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of you a lot. When I imagine that Mississippi river basin out there, the one I saw when going to bed this morning, you are walking across it in a cotton dress. Sweaty and hair sticking to your neck, you are walking across it toward me this time. I feel you in my heart in this flat place. I feel you there intensely. I hope it is not just imagination. That is you? Cotton dress? Sweat and hair? You are walking toward me? Or is it away? Is the heat that rises, mixed with river water, creating mirages on the horizon? My kingdom for you to be here for just 5 minutes.