Pink Skin
Pink skin,
Warm to the touch,
Asks me if I’d like to wear sun screen.
“No.” I say, freckling in between
open spaces filled with such
pink skin.
Pink Skin
Pink skin,
Warm to the touch,
Asks me if I’d like to wear sun screen.
“No.” I say, freckling in between
open spaces filled with such
pink skin.
Tourist season has started, Here the poem’s title would be lobster skin.