july has planted its roots and reminded

us it is here to stay, sweat stains on

subway seats, a trickle down your

back like a drop of rain, AC water propelling

silent in its movement, the tear the

airplane makes in the sky, covering the ground in

shadow, if only for a second.

a fitness instructor shares a tip to tuck shoulders

into ears, a whisper to the moon side, a crack in the spine.

I tell on myself when my ankles pull on my legs, maybe I’m

past what I can, ran one step too late.

a speakerphone conversation, a lazy window saxophone, how

a small drizzle collects into a puddle. july has planted its roots

with all this water and the fountain is running over, hands collecting

underneath to catch what we cannot hold. the whisper of august, the

bragged humidity, the shared sly smile.

here we are again

welcome me into your arms

and I won’t let you go unnoticed