bring me June daisies and July heatwaves. let cold water be something for skin to sizzle under instead of shiver at. send sun to summer my skin, moon to coat my throat in howls—guttural, thick, and hungry for blood. send fireflies to catch in blue-tinted mason jars —let’s pretend they’re stars scooped from the heavens. let’s pretend this barren soil, this decayed wasteland is capable of reaping something ripe and sweet, sticky on the fingers. let’s make a picnic of these canned beans and jarred peaches. let’s make a seaside of this whimpering creek. let’s make use of this dying sun while we still can. let’s meet, flesh to flesh, ankle to ankle, honey tongue to strawberry lips. let’s make a timeless August of it.