Summer

Summer...
Yep, how I adore it. Surrounded by smelly, sweat-soaked bodies and flies that commit suicide when they hurl themselves at your car windscreen. Delightful. Told you I was weird.

Summer

Alienated by this landscape
Illuminated by the sun
A casual stroll
And beads of sweat, they roll
Down my forehead

And wild birds, they scream
At one another in their trees
This is a climate
Everyone adores
Everyone, that is, but me

Summer is slovenly; it tortures me
Mercilessly, and I long for winter
I long for the purity
Of frosted ivory, of crystallised water

I was not intended to flourish
I was intended to remain
Frigid, precise as an icicle
Suspended above the ground.

....See, told you I was nut-so...