short sleeves, shortened by the mothlike heat that eats up my arm. it's easy to believe that layers of fabric defend when the temperature doesn't swelter through each consecutive sweater.
god, let your eclipse rain down, drown the sun in the reflection of its own omnipresence so that darkness falls on the things i have never known in the first place. the just & the unjust. i may have a terminal case of cabin fever but i yearn to be justly ignorant, clinging to the things i know & benighted to the things i don't. i want to shed the fear of unknown & embrace a world lit only by amplified blind faith.