Maya

Sometimes I think the sun is false
Yet I am certain it eats at my enamel
when cruel summer conspires against my smile
It is false, maybe, because if it wasn't
I would have to hide
I wouldn't have shelter in a wintering shade, but
in the dangerous space between old and new lovers
I stand unseen, peeling, fully clothed and freezing
I am standing, naked and new in the falsity of the sun
Sundered by the uncovering light
I am husking my underbelly.  I am learning a new language.
I am speaking with a tongue of fire and words of smoke.
Into the open air I shout, "I want nothing else."  I am tired.
My phrases are tired.  I am cracked open now.
Can't its rays falter for a moment?  Can't it shutter for an instant?
I am a fool to have even stepped outside.

-AB & KP turn-based text msg poem