I trod the sun-scorched sidelines of one way streets.
Mercy in shadowy shades of trees.
My dark skin from sun kisses;
fizzled hair from heat waves.
Cold: now an abstract thought
which lingers in my mind
embraced by fire in this hellish
world of passion and naught.
How awkward it is to complain on heat
despite a cold heart
that penetrates the formless
concept of love.
For when our warmth exceeds the sun,
all that is left is the freezing space.