Flowers 1

By Sasha Schoen

The September heat makes my skin melt.
Each drop of sweat slowly snowballs until
the entire sheet of skin on my back drips
off my spine into a puddle of sludge.
Liquefied dermis drenches my shoes.
The calendar says Fall. Mother Nature says
otherwise. The sea salt caramel
ice cream I spill down my chin
resembles the coastal air, thick and briny.

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