Body Surf

we shared baths, we shared names and
a father, shared voices some could not
decipher between one and the other

but our bodies different, our blood
not the same – yours buried deep beneath
olive skin, toned muscles and thin

hips – mine cushioned at the surface,
no secrets to tell, all out on my face, cheeks
that burned and swelled when exposed

to sun or the words we whispered
behind our parents, backseat
boredom, on our way to the beach –

you, primed for the camera, the light
on your thigh, just so – smile – and I
slouched in a sand-heavy suit, the line
read across my middle, convex, like a bad joke…