Cold showers

Summer began
with the heat of ending conversations,
from the fiction of your push and my pull,
and the way some of those words burnt me,
and it hurt.

Summer began
with lasting cold shoulders,
the only kind of cold that ever bothered me,
and how I sit under each cold shower,
waiting for artificial rainwater
to take me away.

tub

was gonna use a real photo I had but it’s in my laptop

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