23 July 2012
Worship the sun as the rest of the population does,
Worship the rays hitting my shoulders from high above,
Frolic in the water well over the waist,
Frolic while bodies deform in their essential haste.
Tingling and stinging with the usual intense heat,
The waves come, one by one, knocking me off my feet,
Thrown under the sea, lacking the strength to surface and breathe,
Arms thrashing, skin still rashing, but no one stops to help me.
Finally I emerge from the ruthless seafoam mess,
Crawling up from the sand to fall on my address,
On a bed of golden, sweltering sand,
gasping, heart beating as fast as it can.
I feel for my sunglasses as I move to my towel,
The light shines so bright I could actually howl,
And the flame of the torch lit up in the sky,
Burns my skin red raw til I can only cry.
The peeling, the scraping, the regret of no sunscreen,
Mention the beach and I'm no longer as keen
To flirt with the surf, the sun and sand are a bummer,
Curse this great southern land and its love of the summer
Sunburn • Opuss № I