Muted colors

the undertow of the water
heaves, curling my chest in brine

nerves of pain slices through me
as if escaping a firestorm

outside, the sun stumbles behind
muted clouds, scribbling jagged lines

my forehead
burning in sweat

a soliloquoy of uncertainty disturbs 
thin air




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, a post of 44 words.  The selected word is Burn.  Thanks for hosting Victoria Slotto.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.