it's the middle of july in the city of saudade.
a line drawn down the street.
dark. bright. no in between.
heat dancing over loose cobblestone.
laundry stiff on the line.

i step outside.

a car parks between dark and light.
our eyes meet.
thick hoodie. long pants.
his face asks
have you been outside?
it's summer time.

i appear in the bathroom mirror.
tanned skin. sun-bleached hair.
it reads as health around here. check. 

behind the dark green eyes
something has moved in.

it's the summer fever.

my heart is faintly hammering.

no thought to hold. not nervous.
is it even mine?

heat with nowhere to go,

trapped inside the facade,

climbing to the surface,

escaping only through my loosely held lips.

buzzing in the skull. cold sweat.
the air moves. shivers follow.
stings and flashes, up and down.

a cough erupts. 

my body drops, boneless. 

the eye holds the nearest, dullest thing.
a cable hole. an edge of window.

600mg of relief.
the last sensation, numbed.

somewhere the hum of an AC.
somewhere an alarm
finding the rhythm of my heart,
screaming in sync,

something got in.

the light has crossed the floor.
my body has not.

it's the summer fever.