bella – a poem

bella – a poem

[from a second wave – poetry]

she was tan and fit and blonde
and too young
not really my type
but she was holding a tennis racket
as she passed i smelled Mexico
like a fantastic hotel room
breeze blowing in through the curtains
and the sand and ocean still on us
making love on a tired afternoon
burned from the close sun
smiles, tan lines, and laughter


image: tan, emergency break, creative commons usage

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