'though he'd already started to/ play with the strap of your bikini & his hand snaked up/ your stomach, hot & burning a raging fire as fingers traced/ a path both foreign & familiar, one you couldn't/ control as you drowned in him that summer night swim.'

i love this poem so much. it's so powerful, lovely, melancholic in it's own odd way. it's unique.

I really liked this. My favourite line is 'that's it's 2a.m./& you still can't breathe'. This poem has a sort of dread about it, like she can only see the end.