Heatwave

A sea of wood chips stretches limitlessly 

My feet adrift above the ground

The sky sparkling like a tar rooftop in July

A sea of wood chips stretches

limitlessly

A sea of faces melting

Boiling, the air is boiling

My feet drift above the ground

My black loafers glistening like tar

Tar in july

Faces smudge together when you stare too long

Melting pitch slowly dripping down onto the woodchips below

Colors, a July sky

Air glistening, melting like tar, tar in July

I've been smudged, I’m smudging

I run my fingers over my bones of charcoal,

My edges blurring into the burning sky