the sand was soft
but stuck everywhere.
we ran back to the house
sun-kissed and laughing,
knowing we’d fuck soon.
you can’t take off
your bathing suit,
she said.
my smile collapsed.
the frigid polyester
held tight.
repetition
is a cold bitch
who carries pen knives
and doesn’t sleep much.
i find it funny now,
how long i laid on my back.
then
it was comfortable.
pillow over my face,
hiding from the
annoying break of day
the blinds struggled
to keep out.
i thanked them
for their valiant
effort.
but their duties
are relieved.
now
i sleep
face down.
zee zee zee
Thick white paint,
Static and entitled,
Barks orders.
Cold trunks
Rush upward
To get the last sip
From the martyred bottle.
— aa
