By Caroline Hesby, TIWP Student

in the heat tongues come untwisted, floppy and snappy
in the heat everyone is vulnerable and miserable,
skin melted off and the uglier layers show from below
july’s drum beats the loudest–
its weaving through a crowded street full of chants and cries
its sucking on sweet cherries, red-stained fingers and lips
its doing without asking, looking gluttony in the eye, wrestling with lust
its breaking open the chest and letting desire mingle with the sweltering air
its slashes of paint that spill off of the canvas, and onto the floors, the walls, onto legs
its feeling life breathing, from the center of the Earth, from the tops of the skies
july is dramatically draping oneself over the couch, with a paper fan and an attitude
its feeling the soul tense and stretch like a muscle–
use me, use me it begs
it’s the spark in the eye that aches all year long for our most primal days:
biting at each other’s necks, dancing under moonlight, wild calls into the night;
the epic clash of our love and our spite.

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