I am having an affair with the sun. Sure, it’s crazy to think I could keep this up, meeting him in the middle of the day, sharing all of myself with him, but I can’t help it. He’s far too addictive to suspend contact with him for more than a few hours. Just another taste, another ray to comfort my limbs in the chill of the night. I’m not ready to let go of your white light. The laughter we shared echoes in the night streets. You disappear for a few hours. I sleep, sublimely comfortable in the expectancy of your light, drifting over my eyelids, your arms waking me for our heated day of relaxed muscles and languid thoughts. We’ll share these tepid moments, and the torrid ones, until one day you’ll leave me for winter. Until then, come back to bed.