this scarf is draped over my head like the cloak of an intergalactic sweater; cashmere on top of a lighter burnt sienna dew that oozes heat exhaustion much like the corona of this fairytale, flitting with the lives of a conundrum, infusing with this rhapsody that my flesh screams, a tremor of unquenched perspiration, tumbling against the placid waves of this mephitic wind which brings nothing but pandemonium to my summer-filled arena hoarded by this sunflower oil so greasy, being poured over my head like the desires of these raging vultures.

— & i am caged in such heat that i drizzle through my pores a liquidity so saccharose, & this day is so long that i wish to hammer myself into the freezing waves of this tropical atlas away from the dragon's head that invaded the hoax of this sinking ship, in a world so filled wi polluted energy dripping chocolate roses & the silence of decaying flesh, flooding with a mayhem of opportunities that creat a catastrophic exodus in this flavorless & painless fuel of art framed by the portion of goodness like evil upon the corners of these cliffs, scavenging the seams of this portrait so outdated, a tenebrosity witted from  the rising hatred of these tropical forts, an islander's experience— like mine — poured upon brown skin so exotic in contrast to her milky shoulders.