110. Kissed by the Sun

Have you ever been kissed by the blooming sun?
Brushed by the petals of that flowering sun?
Tickled and pinched by waxing rays,
melted along with mist-ridden days,
scorched by a cosmic microwave
first brain, then chest, then skin are enslaved –
Utraviolent pollen
fluttering, blinding
rain upon a thirsty Earth
that increases thirst tenfold.

Then –
only then –
does my skin redden
and crispen to brown,
Withering under the kiss of the sun –
whose cumulus sheets cannot hide her touch –
The sweet smoldering kiss of the bed-seeking sun –
when her arms wrap the world in a crimson mirage –
The cruel burning kiss of the pure patient sun
whose lipstick stain will mark me for weeks.