147

We walk around in dream to let denial burn holes through centuries.
More like days into weeks into months;
That's us.

Our necks tighten like the equator ripping up the horizon,
Torching leather faces,
Sucking up the Earth,
Crack dry, hiding scorpions from your feet,
Tiptoeing on concrete.

I think the heat is getting me.
I think I'm gonna burn.
So, when you walk away, I'll walk away.