Summer is soft and sticky.
An ode to the ocean,
Where you drowned at 13
And now I skim the surface
Pretending I'm not treading
Your grave.
Girls & boys play.
I can hear boat engines
Under the water and they're
Humming your name.
I'm glad the salt stings,
I wish the tide could grab,
But the sun,
Oh the villain if there was one,
Warms me too much
To stay long