there is the
creeping up. like a pale yellow blanket strangling hairless limbs
when it's too hot outside for us to brood properly-
and the oppression of the sun sends away our nuances in favor of a blunt
summer glow.
with all the neatness of a flat wash on the new sidewalks.
we, dumbed down and desensitized.
our fingernails sleeping at the bottom of cracks in the hot cement. like ants that crawl out of the dead grass and up under your skirt.
just as the wind tosses your hair nervously under the ugly sun.
just as you laughed at a harmless car crash.
just as the makeup running like a thin slip of tar.sliding deeper into the slits of your eyes.
just as Hemingway's tobacco-stained teeth gnawing at your ear.
just as my words forgot to feel around in the dark of my mouth to find you.
just as the razor-burns on your legs started to itch.
just as i cut my thumb opening up a bottle. and wiped it off on my shirt