Costly Flesh

I want to be slim
as a curve of skin;
want to bask in
white sand waters.
Sun me,
you costly coasts,
and let me try out
just once,
comfortable flesh.

So comfortable
that I don’t feel naked
in a swim suit,
nor mince my steps
to control the jello
I’ve had
since 13.

But I’m higher than this–
or suppose to be–
unique, strong, me;
without such…
such common wants
and base
insecurities.

But I still want
to be slim
as a mocha slip of skin,
flattered by suns
and beaches
as art is.
Not a mar…

So sun me,
you costly coasts,
and let me try out
just once
comfortable flesh.