summer

Every morning 

I put sun cream on and fill the bottles with water. 

I walk stones grunching under my sandals. 

I remember endless summers in the past. 

I smell the asphalt. 

I have too many dresses to choose from. 

Summer makes me restless.

Light makes me feel that I can go on

without rest, without sleep.

All that expectation of lazy nothing builds inside of me.