The insides of my thighs are sore,
And my mind numb.
Summer is still young,
And I already feel regret welling up
Inside of me
For every moment spent with you.
I bet the water would’ve felt nice —
Better than those stale sheets
You insisted on swimming in,
Midnight to three,
Nine to noon…
And my Banana Boat gathers dust.

 

Raegan Allen