Heat wave

The heat is alive, stripping away energy and happiness. Oh, my my poor sweet love who has to slave away in this heat. I send a sweet breeze to you with my thoughts.
The air itself is so thick that you can almost taste it. The church bells ring every hour, but the sound is like tyring to move through syrup, sluggish and slow. Even the trees betray me. Their leaves do not stir, which conveys the hopelessness of wishing for a soft friendly wind. Even the much hoped for relief of night did not sway the heat. The eyes remained awake as the body sweated and flushed tried desperatley to find a cold spot left on sheets it rested upon.
Heat.. heat...heat.... how I loathe you