The scent of the sun
2019
it begins a little like this
a strain in the back of your neck
leading up to a slight pressure in your eye
throbbing, but not in pain, rather, in heat
until you realise streaks in your vision
blue red orange
merging
merging
they become sprinkles
dust
almost moving
dancing
until they coagulate
and in that moment you happen to turn your eyes
towards the sun
and in a split second
the dust become commas
pulsing
finding solace
merging
merging
into a dark spot
black orange green
colours are unknown, ambiguous,
but you become partially blind
nothing happens in your periphery
you try to read but the black spot lingers
words become letters
letters - characters
characters - traces
traces
traces of knowledge
traces of understanding
traces of meaning
you begin to lose
the ability to comprehend
the power to persevere
the will to create
but in your apparent nausea
you find comfort
in the scent of the sun
it’s warm rays entering
the translucency of your skin
and as you take a breath
the sun envelops
knowledge ceases to function
understanding ceases to matter
meaning defies logic
and then if you were to ask me:
how does the sun smell?
I believe I could begin to describe it.