Pressured

Pressured 6/2

We are cans of soda
beading sweat in the heat

We are fire extinguishers
aiming at the sky
raining down foam

A bowl of ice slowly
turns into clear water
pours down the sidewalk
and dries instantly

Night will come
the fires will be put out
and both of us will rest
laying in our damp beds
sweating frothing to sleep