in the sanctuary of my own mind

somewhere out there the pavement breaks down into pebbles before crumbling into dust, and that's where i'd like to be. an inverse world where there's no ocean by the beach. a perverse world where we fear the approach of a breeze because it means only more sand in our eyes. we might lay out our towels but the umbrella we stick in the ground keeps wavering and falling and our lotion coat keeps melting and we're so sick of the sweat on our backs that we turn and accidentally land on the sand and now it's a thousand little burning needles pricking our backs in an act of unwanted acupuncture. we who so longed for that glistening hollywood tan now can't bear the crisp burnt appendages we call arms. we want shade and we want buildings we want suburban air conditioned rooms ceilinged from the sun we've grown to loathe. nature at its worst. we hate camels.