Coppertone Gal

Beach-bronzed buns
scamper across
my fake wood flooring.
Tan lines entice
what's left of this romantic.
The amber skin's real.
The blonde hair isn't.
The latter doesn't matter.

I know why the logo marketing
made millions.
When I hear her toothbrush
above my recently cleaned sink
every skullghost dies.

They knew that hope would sell.

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