Icy dream in the midst of grinding heat...

It didn't rain
Who could guess a rain in mid of april?
It was scorching...
Dry...
As dry as a dried withered thing...
And terribly troubling...

But then thought of ice. 

Ice...
White. 
Ice
Cold.
Ice
Bold.
Ice
A soothing thing.
Ice
A mountaintop spring.
Ice
A wonderous form.
Ice
On my dried palm.

And the scorching sweltering sultry thing...
It was just nowhere.
It was just nowhere...

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