Burnt Layers

Summer slipped away, but I’m still here,

a map of careless days, peeled skin,

the mirror shows angry red,

a canvas of heat, of fun gone too far.

I touch it gently,

each layer a whisper of sun,

every pulse reminds me

of laughter and waves,

of forgetting the clock,

of being so free,

that now I’m raw beneath,

like a secret waiting to be known.