Neighborhood 3.2

In July, migraines make mornings start

before meditation and journaling.

The heat you went to bed with

is the heat you wake up with.

Sweat-slicked tendrils from dirty, sloppy ponytails

stay stuck to the back of your neck

for what feels like days.

Past the overpass, humidity’s haze

over downtown in the distance

never seems to lift

to reveal the life within.