Beach

The shallow end; stay there, stay safe, no sharks, no drowning, no jellyfish stings.

Just sitting wherever you crap, tanning for the hunks, on one, small resort.

The deep end; sharks, jellyfish, drowning, concussions, popping ears, gasping breaths.

Seeing  plankton and starfish, battling fatigue, because the ocean never ends.

The shallow end; not a single scar on your body, perfect skin, sexy, slim, dieted bod.

Oh, and you got those hunks.  42-karet purity ring  thrown to the side when you climb in the hotel bed.

The deep end; some mutilated flesh, maybe? Permanent scars all over your gaunt face.

The salt detoxicate the poison, so you keep going, ignoring whatever is happening at the surface.

The shallow end; your turn to swim.

You drown. Because your size zero waist and cute butt can't run off the 1000 calories you consume. The tobacco might have disintegrated your lungs to phlegm and, oh, you never bothered to learn how to swim. It would mess up your perfect eye shadow. Duh.

The deep end; take a break, you've been swimming and diving so long.

Dear, your muscles flex when you walk. The hunks drool.

You walk past them all. You find that you can't stand to explain the ocean to them. It's too big.

A tsunami;

The tanners are screwed. Washed into the tides.

The swimmers barely flinch. What's a tsunami next to fighting mermen with tridents?

The swimmers hold out their hands.

The tanners grab on.

The shallow end; stay there, stay safe, forget about the tsunami.

Just sitting wherever you crap, tanning for the hunks, on one, small resort.

The deep end; sharks, jellyfish, drowning, concussions, popping ears, gasping breaths.

Seeing  plankton and starfish, battling fatigue, because the ocean never ends.