Nostalgia

You are the sun

You are the sun seeping into my bones on a lazy Tuesday afternoon when I'm too comfortable to get up even though I know I'll burn.

You are the sun on a humid Wednesday evening when the clouds are thick in the sky and in your throat, and your hair is frizzier than you'd like.

You are the sun on a cool Sunday midday when you're way too full to have a second helping of lunch but you do anyway.

You're the sun on a Thursday morning, painting strokes of soft pink and deep orange and dark red using the sky as your canvas, making getting up early to see your art worth it.