To Look At Her

Outwardly, all one could see on passing by is a tan long legged girl on a pink blanket drying her dark blonde hair in the July afternoon sun. Dressed in a white Burberry bikini the sweat mixed with ocean water stands out in wet shining drops on her lean bare midriff and trickles periodically in sticky streams down under her armpits and the back of her legs. To look at her one could not tell how in one short month she has begun. she has loved. she has lost. she has quit a job. she has made and foolishly and voluntarily cut herself off from several unique friends. Taken her clothes off for money. Captivated a handsome college boy. Broken the hearts of many. Left home to try and find herself. Managed to put the pieces of her broken heart back together. Built a wall around it just to have it taken down. But there she lays in attempt to make her skin darker and her hair lighter. Tonight she will dress lovely and gaze winningly at her entranced date. To look at her you might not guess that inside she is laughing and crying at her own stupidness and luckinesses and at strange enigmatic ways of the world which she will spend a lifetime trying to learn and understand.