but baby, i love the heat

kissing blacktop burns my mouth off & i can bake dashboard cookies under the sun & annual egg fry competition on our sidewalk deems me the winner & the heat is scorching but baby, i love arizona. but baby, i love the heat. dusty green cacti wave goodbye as i drive on the I-10 & my friend and i complain about boob sweat on the roof of her house for her 18th birthday & phoenix sucks you in like a blackhole & i wear a leather jacket in one hundred and sixteen degrees just to prove i can & i love arizona, baby, with its poolside condensation and the times we forgot to put sunscreen on. i burnt my skin & i fell in love with the identical lawns on our neighborhood & the monster in my childhood stories is our HOA fighting to keep real grass in a lawn heatdead. but baby, i love my suburban sunsets: how the natural reds fade to pollution pinks & how starkly manmade tempe lake looks in the background of sunset & starless night. but darling, i love arizona. but baby, i love kissing blacktop & i love the cracked tar of the roads we’re barely old enough to drive on & i love what it looks like to live in arizona in the summer & i love the one hundred and fifteen days. but baby, i love arizona.