so you thought you might like to go to the show

when i move my hair, small granules of sand fall from my hair and coat my pillow.

heat like a blanket is once again coating the landscape, hanging from the sky like a heavy wool blanket on an invalid's lap. there's no escaping it- breathing feels like work and moving is a forced action through air thick enough to cut with a child's plastic play-knife.

the only way to escape such weighty heat is to dive deep.

i've already spent time diving deep into waves which pushed back with relentless force, curling in on themselves and sparkling aginst the pale blue coloured sky. next i will dive deep- very deep, i think- into my squishy and somewhat squeaky wreck of a bed.

i'll dream in technicolour and i promise i'll think of you.