July is sudden spells of rain in the
afternoon, the scrunch of a loved one's
nose, the last of the mangoes, mud-cake roads
and roadside tea, lemon, with no milk or sugar.
July is long conversations and distracted walks,
time running out of time,
with little to say, but don't want to leave.
July is the street lights glistening on asphalt
and my city looking like a Van Gogh painting.
July is a happy evening under the umbrella.