Anna ("Are you looking at me?), if not.

A lack of confidence stiffening this patch of hand over the body's
bronzing. Abbronzato, working at it, and "Do you like it?" Her leg
aside his arm. Arm against friends'. Galactic and childish in white while
pulling at hem. Blinking little nipples before the keyhole drift where he
lifts a path of white to display what is his little worry. All your hoarded
blemishes could be big ones gathering a life (subcutaneous) against you.
The man in red bikini buys you houses. You show your present, then he
takes it away under that smile and a change of clothes. Turquoise bikini,
rolling over from the day confirmed as yesterday. Neither headlines, nor
even finer print. Looking for "ponentino" (little Western wind, to us),
lifting your dress for them. She drifts in from bath in Hollywood white
satin and already you are craving it, but you can buy anything and think
it doesn't work. Working-out once, the glaze pulled back its gauzy robe.
But you would not give what was yours much.

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