The melted toffee days are here,
guaranteed to stick between your teeth
for you to pick at in the winter,
run the reminiscence across your lips.
Days when you get tired
of an air filled with exhaust
fumes. Smog so thick
you can see the heat,
feel it beat and twist a path
into every piece of skin it can.
This is England,
where the sun can’t make its mind up,
causing fights and friendships
to break out, a reddening rash
a covered canvas sunset
clutching to the dying light.