Scorching sun burned

my sunscreened skin

Soaked all over,

even under my chin.

Sweat rivulets steadily

send electric shivers,

flowing down my

sinuous spine.

Stifling like a canned sardine

stewing in the car's heat,

a cooling swallow of life's elixir,

sure to make a quick retreat.

Seeking shadowy spots

I skip, trying to sneak away

but the shamal swiftly slapping me

for such silly child's play.

A searing doorknob, finally home

showering hot steam from the cold tap

safe in bare essentials, unwilling to leave

into a sunny sinful trap.

Note - Shamal is a hot, dry wind blowing across the Persian Gulf in summer, typically causing sandstorms.