Sun Kisses   Sun kisses, sprinkles of freckles across my cheeks, my nose, my arms — these were my prize from those first few times, first misguided tries to work up a tan, and well worth the cost   of the sting, the peeling. (I played outside, I knew just what yellow crayons were for.) The burns got worse. The sun lit my skin roaring scarlet again and again, no hiding   behind the stinking white goop I loathed, and still no tan, just blisters oozing pus and bedsheets like needles at night — I rusted, oxidized, my back and shoulders clothed   with a shawl of fossil daylight.                                                    All-powerful Sol, engendering sun, you saved me from unseen things in the dark, you gave me life — so will you take it from me now?     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont October 2012