When The Sun Hits Poem by Rifhan Miller

When the sun hits
It feels like walking into a brick wall
Sometimes being led out of darkness is not a good thing.
I still don’t see any better now than before;
What is and what was ahead of me: It glares.
Only the path before was more familiar.
This restorationist sentiment
I took a step back: I hit a brick wall.
I take a step forward: I hit another brick wall.
The pre-existing permeating perfume that jolted me gently from slumber, dissipating from a distance, now a tinge, just a whiff:
A brick wall
A certain voice, it muffled. It softened. A certain feedback buzzed in my ear. It got inaudible. I couldn’t make out what it said:
A brick wall
A touch; velvety, soft, sweet. Serenading the edge of my skirt. Running through my hair. Then it scratched. It lifted away. Just a faint ripple in the air where that touch hovered:
A brick wall
A phrase, a song, a tune:
A brick wall

When the sun hits
It feels like falling onto a hard pit
Because I fell, and I know I fell. Hard.
Only I thought I wasn’t alone.
I got up, felt around. There was a door: It was shut.
Only I had expected it ajar
Because I had left mine wide open.