cruel suns

Drinking iced tea, chagrined at the thought of my favorite space to write and drink caffeine being up for lease, seeking refuge from the humidity, listening to people try to fall in love, not feeling like playing even slacker renditions of sports on days like this when the thought of lemonade on the front porch not yet covered with the shade of climbing vines, or a shady tree by lake rocks seems like an infinitely better option.

Ambition to create defeated by exhaustion, coming home from family gatherings to pass out on the couch, waking up to humid wind and sound of diesel engines, wanting to lay there indefinitely because I know I will not be able to lift this heaviness from my eyes as I wish it would rain.