The Sun’s Beautiful, But Fuck the Heat

The friend on my wrist ticks on.
The sun's beautiful.
Fuck the heat.
Vibrating from the apex of my skull.
Screaming in my temples.
This is personal.
Water swimming through the one-inch pipes that 
bend it unwillingly into my glass.
Thirsty,
Drops sitting on my tastebuds.
A small caterpillar swings on a web.
Some will never leave this place.
I cannot breath.
Traveling north for the fog to roll in again.

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