The scent of the sun

it begins a little like this
a strain in the back of your neck 
leading up to a slight pressure in your eye
throbbing, but not in pain, rather, in heat 
until you realise streaks in your vision 
blue   red   orange
they become sprinkles
almost moving
until they coagulate
and in that moment you happen to turn your eyes
towards the sun 
and in a split second 
the dust become commas
finding solace


into a dark spot 
black   orange   green
colours are unknown, ambiguous,
but you become partially blind 
nothing happens in your periphery
you try to read but the black spot lingers
words become letters
letters - characters 
characters - traces 
traces of knowledge 
traces of understanding 
traces of meaning 
you begin to lose 
the ability to comprehend 
the power to persevere
the will to create

but in your apparent nausea
you find comfort
in the scent of the sun 
it’s warm rays entering
the translucency of your skin 
and as you take a breath 
the sun envelops 
knowledge ceases to function
understanding ceases to matter
meaning defies logic 

and then if you were to ask me:
how does the sun smell?
I believe I could begin to describe it.