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Image for the poem Dip Skinny.

Dip Skinny.

We walked the sands and seas in our bare feet,  
stretching out beneath the Spanish skies.  
We bare both hands and all our flesh  
to bask in el agua.  
   
My hopeful body, English rosa  
I pretended was tinted caramel as I climbed Antoni Gaudi’s unfinished masterpiece  
and smoked Fortuna beneath the burning sun.  
I was without cream and without stomach covered.  
 
In her white linen dress and brown sandals  
we took to the neon streets of pizza and Malibu.  
We laughed over sights at the Parc Zoologic de Barcelona  
and tried to speak in native tongue, whilst slurring.  
 
We were on the beach, on golden sand  
in mild, warm, evening darkness, and stars;  
it'll be mañana when I'd appreciate that.  
Brown flesh was all exposed, yours wrinkled, mine fresh.  
 
Your friend and mine nervously sat, both, on the promenade  
as we jump in head first to ebony water and to lack of inhibition.  
My pad was still hiding in my genes  
as three niños ran down our moving floor  
 
They caused the cascading black to shake our adolescent innocence-- in our sin.  
We were dressing on the beach - "No more Adam and Eve-esque games."  
and yet two hours later we’d be at it again, at the hotel pool.  
Where in the bluest, chlorine poisoned, waves, 
with thick black sun glasses on, 
we were as nude as when mothers made us.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
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