Poolside

Pretty girls don’t
Light their own cigarettes. Your friend said
He loves Frank Ocean but he’s never heard Solo;
Loves his girlfriend but says he’d be better off
Solo.

I add to the stack of pizza boxes
Next to your recycling; he should break it off.
He texts back unsaved numbers and kisses her
On the forehead when she carries in the order.
His mouth must be like an ashtray.

The neighbor kids peer through cracked lattice,
You wave from atop the broken dryer on the deck.
I can see it for you now:
Two kids and a swimming pool.
I’m not brave enough for that.

We’ll stay up until our phones die,
Or until you put me to sleep
Telling me about the Proverb across your back.
You must not know the one
About the company you keep.

When I go
You’ll get another.

McCaela Prentice recently graduated from St. Lawrence University in upstate New York where she studied public health and creative writing. Her poems have previously been featured in The Laurentian Magazine, and she was an honorable mention for the Small Orange Journal Emerging Woman Poet Honor of 2019.