tan lines in December

Just sharing a little bit of the inspiration I found on the beach in the DR this weekend.

Tan lines in December:
Sunrise in my drink, the
Silver platter spread before me
With a sprinkling of nameless silhouettes dotting the reality
Of how tangible all we’ve ever needed
Has always been.

The hustle of the bilingual hungry:
This tastes like the fake banana –
The platano falso
The scent injected into the oil layer on my skin,
A reminder of the materialism of the first world
From which I came
To get tan lines in December.

Beauty my camera can’t capture:
The song of the gull
Scratching the tranquil backdrop
Of ocean waves broken on dune
And meringue mixes of Western cultural appropriations
While the sky mixes pinks and blood red and lavendar clouds
Like the syllables on the mouths driving the hustle of the bilingual hungry.

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