Fetal floating

It feels like late spring even though we're halfway through summer. Last night the breeze through the bedroom window and along my body was actually cold, a bite of arctic air that felt wonderful on my wet skin. I usually take a cold shower before bed and let what errant breezes find their way through my bedroom window dry me. I feel a little cooler for a few minutes before tossing and turning in sweat-sticky sheets that smother me even when they're only touching a small patch of skin. I am not made for the heat and it took me a while to remember why I enjoyed summer so much as a child. It was the pool. Unfortunately, I can't swim and float in the shower, but I wish I could find a way to turn my bed into a pool and sleep in the water all night long, afloat like a fetus in an amniotic pool that cushions and cradles and lulls me to sleep on islands of clouds. Then again, my sweat glands hadn't matured yet and I spent most of my time either in the pool or letting the winds lick the moisture from my body, leaving cool skin behind. So much we lose when we mature, not the least of which is memory.

That is all. Disperse.