sometimes in the summer we wake up in a pool of sweat. never been much of an air conditioner-person — a lot of unnatural cold air triggers my migraine. and we both don't love owning big appliances and furniture. so you open a window, and your shoulders — bare skin against the new sun looks so delightful. we complain about the heat and i look in the freezer to check if i remembered to fill the ice trays for our iced coffee this morning. they are always there — glistening, glorious cubes of ice. you remember when i forget. you use the shower after me, while i put on a breezy, cotton something to the meditative pitter-patter. we both smell of lime and coconut and suddenly the air is so much cooler. sometimes, after our little ritual we get in bed again for another hour. my hair slightly wet from the shower, your minty breath — we fall asleep again, comfortably, as the sweet summer air grazes against our cold skin. what a luxury.