And Other Songs
You stand there, oblivious to the eyes on your body, the warm California sun baking your skin to the precious brown the all crave.
In the dry heat of summer you unintentionally draw the men to your side, their white skin a contrast to your indigenous roots.
As they walk by their pants grown tight and they glance back hungrily, praying you’ll notice them.
But you stand still, eyes on the one you want, the one who does not see you but only your skin.