June Relocation: Consequences

The heat,
the fatigue.
My soul said no
and folded
into a spore,
quiescent,
waiting for
quiet and cool.
Beyond salvation,
mental starvation,
self‑deprivation.
Burnout,
burn right,
burn left,
burn everywhere.
I feel too old
for new beginnings
in the chokehold
of this feral sun.
The bare minimum
is already 
too much.