The Air in Apiary

by Adeline Tinderdust

 

The air in Apiary is thick and dense
I struggle to stir each morning
A warm blanket of entombment hanging lowly over me
Suffocating me gently as I sleep

My skin is cracked
My eyes are dry
No amount of fluid will replenish my thirst
As I breathe in its foggy air

It lulls me back into slumber, throughout the day
Its forlorn brume creeping under my lids
I wake once again just in the nick of time

The women here purify the air every night, burning incense and palo santo.

However as dusk sets in, its macabre breath is revived
A veil of mossed curses hanging over everything that resides in its chamber
Every creature, every plant, every living being that breathes in its infernal, foreboding air.