She smoothes her towel on the sand, Lifts it up once more to remove a pebble, Then smoothes it again across, The white sand of her grey day dreams. Once seated, she ceremoniously, Decants her sun milks and oils, Drenching her rounded belly with the potions, Until her skin's thirst is assauged.
Years of sun worshipping, Her skin would make a fine handbag, Its texture and hue next season's fashion. She lies on her back, Fingers stretched out like Spanish fans. Closed eyes watching orange spangles, Until she fries at noon.
Oh, Coco! What did you start? A fashionable hedonism that Cultivates fatal flaws. Better to experience in once or more in lovely Maldives