Too warm, too sweet, too sticky, too dark,
it rushes toward me, towering over my head.
I close my eyes and my mouth barely in time
as the black tidal wave of molasses washes over me,
knocks me to the hard ground, then abducts me
along with everything else in its path.
I struggle to keep my head above its viscous fingers,
clutching my neck now, pulling me downward,
baptizing me in a river of angry sugar.