She lay on the balcony toasting in the sun.
Not caring about the damage being done.
No shade nor factor fifty protection.
Fixating on her browning complexion.

Slowly turning like a rotisserie chicken.
Hoping for the browning to quicken.
Barbequing nicely in the sun’s rays.
Finished off with a striking moist glaze.

Her looks now may be fine and dandy.
With her skin the colour of fine brandy.
But she might not be too overjoyed,
When her immune system is destroyed.