In this heat my body glistens with your perspiration. You sigh and press yourself closer as the radiating heat and light distort our friendship. My tired clothes peel off wetly, as if today's burden of obligatory surprises had been theirs instead of mine, and your own sweaty exhaustion shows itself as it flows a beautiful line down your body between your breasts.

In this heat we can barely stand to have our naked, clammy skin touch, and barely stand not to.

Summer nights are a catalyst that force me to burn even brighter. I pass the time between coffee and ice water with the scratched-in smiles of another letter, destined to amuse you when you go home again and toss and turn, equally sleepless, in your unbearably distant sheets.

I have candles burning, and the perfume of incense surrounds us as if we ourselves were part of some shrine to the religious fervour of our tense but friendly love.

In weather like this the trees are laughing at us -- this is what they live for. We are as at fault as any. Here we are, hiding indoors, huddled in one another's arms like two children frightened of whatever it is that has brought us together. All I ever wanted to be was your court jester. Instead your royal consort kisses the back of your neck.

Today could never be allowed to pass without attracting the malice of thick and heady rainclouds, bloated and spiteful as the cooler night thunders out from the laze of the afternoon. If I were any more alone, I would leave this room and go outside and play with my old friends the dark, angry and melancholy elements. You shouldn't even be in my room, where my small collection of dreams are hidden. However, not even the good company of thunder and lightning could draw me away from you, now that you are here.