Swallowing the Sun

Issue 3 | Summer 2019 |



Hiding behind dark lenses,
I try to escape the oppression of the season.
The sun is my enemy,
smiling while it threads disease into my skin,
leaving teeth marks behind my eyes.
The sky takes a shallow breath,
while the sand tangles its fingers
into trappings of lazy afternoons
that stretch across reflections on water.
Men offer potbellies into the hands
of sunburns and lather protection
onto bikini clad blondes.
I condemn the bite of waves, the sting of heat.
Summer slashes my mouth with contempt,
disrupting my rainy disposition.
I peer defiantly from the mouths of shadows,
pluck the sun from the sky and swallow it whole.