the sweat
cascaded obnoxiously down my neck
my back
my brow
this sun
searing through my thin clothes
stamping my nose
with a few fresh batches
of freckles
browning my shoulders
my thighs
this is not the sun of my childhood
it's a subtropical
blindingly reckless sun
not meant
for irish girls like me
my once red-brown hair
is now
sunbleached yellow straw
i crave japanese lager
pickled ginger
salty seaweed and silky tofu
i like toasty-brown-skinned
black-ponytailed
lithe hippie loners
i love the heady waft
of incense
as i zoom past
temple after shrine
on my funky no-speed bike
some things you thought
were mistakes
were not mistakes at all
i ride
breathing in
the cool absence of constraint
and basking in the heat of discovery
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