The Heat in August
Cotton swabs strung along a sea of blue
threading through gusts of wind
which carry me to a place
white-walled and cement-floored
walked on with worn shoes
thinned with time and eager energy
I reach a door I’ve never opened
with a beating in my chest
that screams excitement, but the nerves linger
catching on breaths
wiping my beaded face–
a gift from the August heat
a new beginning
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