Beached

Her fragrance is exquisite

A foundation of insect repellant

Overlaid with suntan lotion

And a sheen of perspiration

That smells like a summer promise

Of beaches and bronzed thighs

Simmering in slowchained solar intoxication

Waiting to transform into an airbrushed image

Of idealized perfection

But the reality is good enough and then some

In this languid moment

Of golden reflection

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013