Familiar

-

Beads form upon brow

Call it summer swelter

Or perhaps nerves 

Gut inhale

Arid atmosphere 

Cotton lungs whistle

Through humid crowds

Deaf to screaming parties

Dry room

Drier mouth

Making movements in the form of song lyrics turned strangers

Nice to see you again, old chap


Classic words from tired faces

Shadows of memorial avatars 

From simpler times

Of less games,

Or maybe just more fun


Nostalgia is a mood


Awakening parts of us in pieces

One-liners

And hidden melodies

Parts of us we’d forgotten

Like hard concrete

Under heavy feet

Dragging the weight of the air upon our shoulders

Straps slip

As I find a way

To slip away to an easy exit

Excursion to transportation

We should stop for more water

These hot days wield hotter nights

Some may find refreshing

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