I dive into the waves, riding themout on to the beach, rolling in the
sand, then run back again – catch
another wave to feel the champagne-
sensation of the waves
rolling me about –
After an hour or two, when I come out,
I look like a burnt oyster and my loved
ones start to shout – look at you, your
face is burnt beyond recognition! –
Highly ashamed I creep into my room,
sadly disfigured
Life is a choice between appearance
and joy – I’ve chosen joy most of the
time, now I’m growing older, that
option is growing smaller, unless
I want to resemble a witch,
I guess…
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