Illustration by Risa Hugo
I got a sunburn today,
screaming red across the
bridge of my nose like
molten flesh.
I’m glad.
You see Mama, I’m not
scared of becoming too
“dark,” or curdling like
spoiled milk on the pavement.
I have always been your milk
girl, pale and smooth and
creamy-faced.
Pulling the visor down so
the Sun wouldn’t hit my arms
in the car
and the curtains during late
afternoon
and my shirt rolled down to
cover twig thin wrists.
As long as I stay white
and nice and milky fresh.
This burn a droplet
in the ocean of red.
Kanika Lawton is a twenty-one year old student and poet from Vancouver, Canada of Cambodian-Chinese and Scottish-Swedish heritage. She will graduate with a Major in Psychology and Minor in Film Studies from the University of British Columbia in May 2017. She was a Gold and Silver Key recipient at the 2013 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, the national winner of the Draw It! poster category in the 2013 Canada Day Challenge, and has been published in The Rising Phoenix Review, Rambutan Literary, and Red Queen Literary Magazine. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of L’Éphémère Review and serves as a visual arts editor for Venus Magazine.
Illustration by Risa Hugo. You can also find her on Instagram.