Dia Roth

SL*T

I go to the beach, get fucked
up by its harsh waves—no shirt,
no shoes, no solitude will soothe me
today. Saltwater mouth and a series of slaps
in the face—the only reason to surface anymore.
My eyes sting salt. Have you ever been called a slut
by something so big as the ocean? Hope you one day
have the pleasure—the S-L is sloppy and foolish
and the hard T makes it all true. The sandburn
on my ass won’t fade for a few days. First,
it will scab over. A layer of grit to protect
the softest skin I have. The beach
is flecked with mica and so
am I. Look at that.