Goodbye
Switch a few pronouns around and we’re singing about how we hate both of their boyfriends.
Switch a few pronouns around and we’re singing about how we hate both of their boyfriends.
We’re driving. Through Boston in August. The rain pours on the car and I sip my root beer smiling at the way the lights of the buildings and cars get muddled and watery through the windshield turning the road into a washed-out watercolor painting. Our playlist is on; switching between
© Brigid Downey 2021