|I can’t recall being this hot.
Ninety-one in March gives pause.
But what option have I got?
I’m here in spite of my flaws.
Let the sky open... cascade!
Upon my skin stretched much too thin...
The pouring water gives me aide.
To forget the fix I was in.
The droplets fall, they wash me clean,
Of those that wasted all my time.
To take away what makes me mean,
Just simply means that I’ll be fine.