1
I descend
A thick cloud of balmy dirt rises to engulf me
Sweat rains from my temples
Running off into the niche where my earlobe licks my jaw
Rivulets of several days accumulated filth
Sediment carving canals along the length of my throat
2
A passing train stirs up a ripple of cool air
Particles of pollution gather on my brow
I cannot escape the immediacy of
My physical experience
In such extremes
The pressure of the sun will not relent
Even with the fall of darkness
3
I attempt to knit together half-finished thoughts
To no avail
I unravel
I bind my psyche together with haphazard knots
Never meant to hold in the first place
I am slipping
Through my own fingers
4
Into this fold of fetid summer air
My complexion grows ruddy
Stained by loose dirt and debris
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