God you’re as handsome as hell,
it’s true, I nearly fell under your spell,
(it’s the wine, I’m usually a hard sell)
‘til you opened your mouth, oh well.
“The best part about a summer fling
is no one has to remember a thing.”
I juggle your words in my head like a pro,
standing firm in my beige stilettos.
You love flirting and I’m bored,
debating if I should go overboard
with an analogy that popped in my mind
in between your mediocre pick-up lines:
“Like me your tan will fade away,
but UV damage is here to stay
(well, longer than me anyway)
next time, I’d go with the spray.”
Why does he make it so easy?
At least for this medical trainee.
Boys like him are like UVB and UVC:
short wavelengths and high intensity.
They only see what’s on the surface
and burn their bridges on purpose,
unable to see past what’s skin deep,
kind of superficial, don’t you think?
Me personally, I’m a UVA gal
wrinkles don’t phase me at all,
a deep connection is at stake,
so photoaging? I’ll happily take.
Wherever you are on the spectrum,
remember these words of wisdom:
love has a narrow therapeutic index,
it’s trial and error ’til there’s success.
My wit is SPF to unwanted UV,
haters gonna hate, call me crazy,
truth is, I wear my heart on my sleeve,
and words are my sunscreen.
I suppose it’s a blessing and a curse
to nerd out about dermatology in verse,
I hear it can come off kinda cliché,
but facts stick easier that way.