all i can do is just pour some tea for two and speak my point of view but it's not sane

i woke up several times during the night-- i love it when it's too hot to sleep.

in the dark- everything happens in slow motion.

the ticking of the clock-- minutes feel like hours.

i relax into it.

knowing i don't have to wake up

until the sun wakes up

and right now

it's the moon's turn to shine.

i watch the cat tip toe along the edge of the shadow of the doorway on the floor of our bedroom.

he stretches out like the heat  stretched out over me

and relaxes into the thick air

i consider getting up

to pour a glass of cold fresh squeezed lemonade

but the rise and fall of my stomach as i breathe is the only movement that breaks the heavy stillness

so i decide to keep it that way.

heat.

he has taken off his shirt and i can see the stickiness on his skin, illuminated by the street light or the moonlight-- or both.

i trace the outline of the vein on his arm but he does not stir.

i am content.

there are hours to go before i have to wake up.

right now the world is all mine.

the low hum of the refrigerator lulls me in and out of one dream to the next.

i think of the way grass feels under my bare feet and wonder if i still know how to make a dandelion wreath-- i think of that day when i was 7 and we got a pool in our backyard and i'm remembering how it smelled.  i think of the ocean and count 103 days until i am back on the beach.

water.

heat.

i love it when it's too hot to sleep.