Midday, under a blanket of cumulus
when the orange ball teases you
into unprotected play
and you respond with freckled affection. Respect that radiation.
It's all for fun until you've been burned.
Been burned before;
it was hell. Diving your artesian well
that sweltering summer,
apricot-sized blisters
jiggled on my shoulders. Now, the dermatologist
doesn't sugarcoat the matter.
Overexposed my organ to the sun,
and now I'm, well, overdone. Those naturally rich in melanin
have inherited more protection.
But don't let their armor fool you;
everyone has an Achilles' heel. With enough exposure,
weaknesses revealed.
Regardless of the skin you wear,
we're all made to burn,
some slow, some fast,
some will outlast,
but that fire
consumes us all. So when you bare it all
to that burning star,
remember to wear
protection.
About the Creator
Pixel Floyd
I write poetry. Inspired by the undefined spaces where words take their chances.
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Comments (1)
Hahaha, great job on being careful not to be sunburned! It is painful. The body remembers what we do to it and carefully bides its time to show us our follies.