the sun is a light bulb

The sun has burned away the clouds again. It's getting ready to sear the earth for yet another day. I think this is the third day in a row where temperatures have peaked above 26C. It's too early for this.
Day eight. I wish the nights would revolve as quickly as the days. Sleep evades me, keeping just out of reach, like a hummingbird at a flower. I miss her breathing, her warmth against my arm, my shoulder, my thigh. The absence of voices hang between these walls and presses down like a blanket. Television does nothing to dispel the loneliness. 

Music calms the waters of my soul yet leaves behind little ripples of emptiness. Her distant voice is the shore of my longing.