He melts on the side of the street,

A corner in honesty,

While thinking of December.

He thinks,

“How did I get my feet stuck

So far from home?”

Absent mindedly,

He reaches to tie his shoes

And his hands stick

In the molten rubber,

Thread,

And flesh.

Doubled over,

He thinks about the ocean.

And slowly,

His height shrinks from both

His hands and feet.