we splashswim bobbing
across the lake,
stretch on a rock
sunsoaking,
courting slow death
through melanoma.

the light blinding
and the girl on the dock
has a spine
like a string of hard pearls
under her skin,
painful shouldershrug
as she wraps small arms
below martyr ribs,
shivering in the heat,
posing;
her thighs don't touch
as she swings her hair
and stares.

i walk back barefoot
through the woods
bikiniclad,
distracted,
pausing in clearings
to feel the sun
on my legs.
my tooshort hair is long dried,
my sister paddled back
boyfriend in tow
to the safety of cutoff shorts.

my ears are full of water,
and i can hear my heartbeat
scream with each step.
somehow,
no one notices my passing,
or when
as i trample their lawn.