Heliolatry

The sun splahes the sky with a runny orange-purple haze

that bathes the land in shiny gleaming evening

The light dribbles into my mouth and lines my insides with warmth

All I need is to stand in the middle of the street and drown in the steady intoxiating stream 

of drowsy afternoons in the loving arms of the sun

This poem is about: 
Me

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