6.9.09: My Umbrella

I've run out of sunblock.
I can no longer hide from that poisonous emanation.
My skin will become darker, like leather.
Vitamin D.
I am susceptible to cancer.
I must find my umbrella ella ella.
A happy medium.
My saving grace.
Shade from your radiation.
Sweet peaceful cloud.
I no longer need sunblock.
Disease free.
Healthy.
With He I am Me.