Back from the beach
yet many more miles in store
skin and mind burning
on my cool kitchen tile floor.
I am tickled pink by the sun's searching fingers. (He asked me to call him Ray.)
I am blushing at the memory of his zinc-oxide intimacies. (It was such a sunny day.)
I am flushed, high on gin with a grenadine splash. (I like my drinks that way.)
I am glowing like a lobster in my bubble bath. (That's where I like to pray.)
I am feverish, so please forgive my punch-drunk kiss and tell. These are the fiery heights from which my pale skin fell:
He tied me to the mast of a peppermint ship. Gave me countless lashes with a Red Vine whip. He drank tequila sunrise, and offered me a sip. Said he was the king of the stolen skinny-dip.
I wear a scarlet letter from the sun's high-noon advances. All jelly fish stings, and ocean-foam dances.
- Sarah Torribio