Florida Poem

After summer rains,
marble thumb snails and beetles
blot the window screens 
with pearl and drone. Gardenias swell,
breathing is aquatic and travel
a long drawl from bed to world.
During drought,
the heat becomes a devil
girl with oven-red lips
who wants your brains puddled
in a brass-capped mason jar,
who wants the silver stripped
from your tongue, the evening pulse
between your legs, yes, she wants
everything from you.

Copyright © 2011 by Emma Trelles. Originally published in Tropicalia (University of Notre Dame Press, 2011). Used with the permission of the poet.