Are you still on??
When the heat rises so much that you can practically feel the molecules jostling around you like sweaty kids bumping into each other in a crowd, it's time to lie down. Lie down and look at the ceiling fan spin and spin, doing exactly what it's supposed to do. Think about the people you miss and the people they miss and the messes you made and the way things felt so complicated and daunting even before a global pandemic. July is deceptively heavy for a month with such a short, jaunty name — one expects such a thing from a cumbersome, solemn "November" or a "February" but July?
Of course I want to look at you forever and trace the outline of your visage with my freshly washed fingers. I want to laugh and sleep ten hours a night but also dance until two am. I want to watch you watch something and open your mouth, saying my peace before I can, the way you have the words for everything.