Archive for the ‘Bikini.’ Category

I had, I am sure,

an abnormal childhood and adolescence.

A product of who, when and where I am from,

external manipulations,

my sensitivities.

I saw the movie Grandview USA in 1993.

It was new to me.

I felt like I belonged, somehow.

From the opening credits, homely, inviting,

I felt at ease.

I wanted to be the girl in the bikini

with the Frisbee

(hard to believe?),

happy,

free.

I hoped things hadn’t changed too much

in the almost decade

since the film had been made.

Indeed.

I wanted a home.

I could dream.

 

 

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Indeed, cereal bloats.

Yes, I saw those guys pulling your top apart and squeezing your breasts, as you grinned stupidly. Yes, I saw your camel toe. You looked happy.

Should I doubt it?

Did you really like it, or are you just a fame-junkie, a people-pleaser?

Bikini.

Pacific.

Specific.

Nuclear. Two-piece. What is kinda kept revealed is atomic in power. The mind boggles. A decaying concrete dome covers truly toxic shit. A thin fabric covers beautiful assets.

The power of life and death, beauty and ashes. Your modesty is ultimately wasted.