Gold Ice Cream
Why is the wind So Cold? Summer's first month is Days Away.
That's it! I say, at the Brink of Letting Misery Prevail.
I am going to Imagine myself a Holiday!
Everything I know of palm trees and warm sand is being packed into it. My suitcase is the one leaking ultraviolet, trailing leopard printed straps. The food is amazing: all spice and lime zing, the drinks bubble fresh. The sun is blurred in the heat hazy sky. I think it might have melted. It has melted. It is made of gold ice cream, it's what the Gods eat. In the evening, as the flavour of the sky turns to watermelon red, we dance, coffee brews on a beach fire, misery is nothing but a snickering twig.