sunburn

the rage you reek.
the sunlit metal inside your throat. summer’s a thorn. his pale skin and golden freckles—it stings your body like sunburn.
 
he’s salty, musky, heated morning with dried straw and acid malt; you breathe his sweat; your skin is burning; the sea is choking you with salt. 
 
and hot inside, and blind with hatred you look at him, you look at him—he’s golden, vile, sharp and naked, the light is beaming on his skin. you need to scorch him; blood and pyre; you need him down on the floor to kiss the sun out of his smile so it can’t burn you anymore.