XoBrittMarieXo

Laying on my stomach, feet in the air, swinging lazily like I have nowhere to be—except right here, stealing the show.

My bikini bottom

Floral strings tied just right, I stepped onto the sand like it was a stage. Eyes followed—predictable, desperate.

They always stared,

The sun was out, the breeze was bold,
The kind of heat that breaks the mold.
I hit the beach with something light—
Or maybe nothing? Hard

It rests above me—a crown not forged in gold, but grown in grace. Queen’s Wreath, they call it, and rightly so. Its violet blossoms arc