I remember my bare feet on the brick pavement, my toes curled and pressed into the grout as if that would keep me balanced, keep me awake. You were behind me and you asked me something important but I don't remember what it was, though I remember my answer was 'nothing' without a second of reflection. It seemed so clear then.

I turned to look at you and you were blurry from the sweat in my eyes. I was sick. I was very sick with whatever flu had spread that season, and it showed me that summer doesn't make us invincible or immortal, it showed me that that time of the year is lonely and all there's left to do it fight to get passion going again.

You asked me something important and I don't remember.

Even now when I think of you, you are blurry. And my feet are very bare, covered in dirt and bug bites and the sweat in my eyes is a different kind of sweat mixed with tears.

My body is still on fire and I'm trapped inside of it.