Even when rays of sunlight
bask down on the currents
rippling through verdant ravines,
a lofty heaviness persists
despite the sanguine summer haze.
Strolls in the sunrise
and midnight ponderings
are no match for the humidity
of the day; clothes cling to skin,
dampening not from heat,
but from the moisture
that falls as mist
in the dead of night.

You are the humidity
of summertime existence;
invisible to the eye, yet
ever-so-present, a constant
reminder of the obscurities
concealed from perception.