Funnily enough, I was writing a similar piece today, titled 'the fifteenth attempt' - I'm sure you can imagine how that went...

I was following this poem, internally nodding the whole way, enjoying the rhythms especially of those 2nd and 3rd stanzas, but then this phrasing jostled me a little:

Micro-stones grinding my feet on asphalt:
an appetizer for the sun's mouth.

The first line suggests a return to uninspiring, artificial landscape, and then the second seems tantalisingly surreal, opposed - I can't quite locate the meaning in it!

After that it feels very much in safe hands again - a very relatable and evocative write overall :)