a love letter

to the tropics but you’re southbound
in Köppen starting A’s but you’re monsoon this is
dark blue. i see you
in every millimeter counted in rainfall
and mist wrapped hills like shawls
and suburban epiphytes
with the average annual 2000
range twenty-nine, twenty.
triple showers daily
eternal fight against humidity
when you’re long roads and curvature
with hands cradling cigarettes
ash on passenger seat and
the center console coffee cup;
disengage me.
this scent is called new beginnings and
leaving.

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