july flame

I feel as though I will never get warm.  I need the searing heat, the pressing humidity, the excuse to lie down in the grass and sleep because it is too hot to move but to sip cool things out of glasses.  I need the length of days and the closeness of the sky; the colors deepening in their ripe fullness; the sensuality of pressing air moved only by a hot breeze.  Here the air is too thin to hold me- I cut right through.  I need the heat because it holds you.