The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop...
My fire? Tacos ????
Saturday is great and all but I think Sunday is my soul mate ????
Have so much light that plants grow towards you ????
