I did not know I was exposed.

The fingers touched, first sweet and gentle,
Soft caresses warm my skin.
Invisible insistance pressures
Guileless pleasure turn to grim.

The fingers build in yellow heat,
They sear my skin unmercifully.
Still unaware I yet remained
A victim caught in Summer's game.

If I had a chance, I might
Have tried to cover, stop, or fight.
But one can't change, rewind, or turn
The making of a sunburn.