from Sun this Burn by A.J. Huffman

Prone body becomes broil, resembles lobster
or maybe baked bean. Unnatural
pigmentation spreads across unprotected skin.
Straps save miniscule bits from fiery rays.
Delayed pain begins. Tomorrow
will bring blisters, weeks of peeling, pretending
to be a snake. Later,
forgetting all of it when the warm embrace
of sand and waves smiles, summons.
Inner phoenix responds, automatically answering
irrefutable call.

A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida.  She has previously published six collections of poetry all available on  She has also published her work in numerous national and international literary journals.

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