.

Prickle of sun on my shoulders,

Moisture waking under warm skin,

Ache in a thigh muscle.

.

I am this thirst and tread

Along warm tarmac.

Past, a reinterpreted moonscape,

Future, a land too foreign to catch my interest

.

Love, an echo of instinct

Without logic,

An emptiness nature abhors.

Heat is real: sweet, warm and wet,

.

Now is this moment.

Here is who I am.

.

Arua 2017