Summer

The heat wakes me up early,

Torrid orange-yellow glow drifts in through the swaying, thin curtains.

The heat that wakes me up early is a kind of unknown warning.

The heat stops my aimless journey with fake dreams as consorts.

I touch her hand gently.

The heat is driving me to rewind and review.

The heat is the template on which my review workflow starts.

I am rolling, rewinding,

Like an innocent lithe figure running in one direction and the parallel frame running in the opposite direction.

You don’t know who is running to where.

It is the heat that is waking me early and making my eyes burn.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s