The results of a vacation to the beach...

I lost a fight with him today.
He threw one first; it's him to blame.
He just can't keep a lid on it,
Those surface flairs and heated fits.

All evidence points straight at him,
And yet it's still his final whim
To blame me for the pain I own.
He says I caused my every groan.
Well, this goes out to him alone:

My skin is red; you beat me well.
(Thank God for making aloe gel.)
Why can't you see I'm so displeased?
Sun, just you keep your rays from me.

Write on!
Clove