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On the Cusp of Summer

I feel hands around my throat,
closing in, slowly squeezing.
The hands are my own.
Procrastination,
no motivation,
the warmth of summer
swirling in the breeze
caresses me.
Drawing my attention
from productivity,
tempting me,
to quit, to fail
to lean back
it whispers,
give in.


--Gloria M., Adult