Sandy mouth, my head turns to water to quench my thirst. Slow motion runner mid-sprint, laces tied and shoes tight. Spit leaves my mouth; It’s not enough. Sun dehydration dream of mists. Sprayed water from a fire hydrant. Pushing on. The salt lays in every taste bud. True hell prolonged by lack of water. I will shrivel up like a raisin in the sun. Whatever moisture’s left of me will surely evaporate. Thirsty. Feel it in the throat. Cough to clear. Chugging the water now and feeling the waterfall of relief slide down my tongue and throat. What sweetness. Tell me a story about that time Jesus was in the desert and resisted temptation. Day at the beach. Wet legs fall into hot sand. Laughter turns into annoyance or vice versa. Trying to stay the course. I need to stay more hydrated. I need to drink more water. There will never be enough. Bending down to pick a low hanging summer flower. Magenta, white, and pink. I feel my mouth salivating. Pinpricked high alert.