This heat, this glow, it blasts through the glass
upon my skin, and for a moment
I’m enriched by it
the way a plant would, but soon
I realize the sun only exists
because I willed it to
and so
the heat and the light is mine
and I am to blame for it
and all the cancer it has caused
and this morning
I’ve energized myself, and all is right
and it’s good
and all the cancer, and drought, and sunburn
it’s all my fault
and I feel absolutely fine with that.
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Published by bernardsbarnes
Writer. Artist. Performer. A little boy dreaming of the stars.
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