the tan???

Miss how come you don’t get a tan?
Do gradients of blue, violet, white and grey fill your canvas?

Serene or ice-like?
Would you respond to a tender touch or scorn it with numbness?

Sun never suns you up does it?
Nor does the spring I suppose

Lay you must an adamant stoic
Like tears seem mere work of glands

Sunscreen could have been an apt cover for you
Preventing the

Warmth, laughter and heat
The touch, tenderness and pain

But warm earth over dead wood seems to have taken hold
With prayers and heart aches

In a pallor of grief and stillness
Shrouded in white

Lie you must under a cross and a bunch of flowers
Like how one day everybody should

Oh miss, how come you never get a tan?