It's getting hot again, and I always start
to come back to life in the heat,
something to do with being covered in sweat
and the way things smell,
plants exploding everywhere,
wind caressing before a thunderstorm,
and the throbbing of drums deep in the night.
Somehow I always wake up with bites and scratches,
recurrent love-making and the urge
to put up mosquito netting so I can leave the windows open.
Ah, the sun turns everything soft here,
well, not necessarily everything when you're with me
and the world dissolves into a tangle of limbs and tongues,
something akin to dancing in private
and I'm not sure which I prefer;
the sensuality of moving to drums and guitars with you,
or the ferocity of our moonlight sonatas.