It's summer wherever I am,
and I'm hot and sweating
from it.
Salt melts when it's that humid;
a queer syrup in the bucket
in the basement.
As you love me, I'll drink it.
There are consequences,
there are always
repercussions in my body.
I'll accept them through the
quenching hot
with wet—however concrete
saline, body wrongly.
