An Elegy for Summer
This is euphoria: the art of painstakingly purging blistered and withered melanin. This is apocalypse: the wait, waiting and waiting for the tear of vapours, of sweat and oil. Summer is judgement season, death and resurrection.
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Scale
you step on it
only to invalidate small gains
and celebrate big losses
numbers are not mere figures
they can be fractions
factors or integers
positive or negative
even triggers
lacking congruence
the higher the digit
the lower you feel
a calculated risk
you are well aware of
but you still dare
to weigh your self-worth
count the unavoidable void
often with wishful thinking
always with potential dismay
you step on it
come what may
you still step on it
only to invalidate small gains
and celebrate big losses
numbers are not mere figures
they can be fractions
factors or integers
positive or negative
even triggers
lacking congruence
the higher the digit
the lower you feel
a calculated risk
you are well aware of
but you still dare
to weigh your self-worth
count the unavoidable void
often with wishful thinking
always with potential dismay
you step on it
come what may
you still step on it
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