pink

pink with too
much sun,
she undoes her
blouse
and sets it on
the bed.
you see the pattern
of her
clothes
against her
skin, the hot
singed glow,
the straps,
the folds,
the too short
shorts,
the burn rising
up along
her legs.
and you smile
as she says what,
while you stare,
and you say
something like
that's going
to hurt
in the morning.