Marked by the Sun

The burn creeps up my back, a fiery reminder,

of hours lost to sun’s unforgiving splendor.

It radiates heat, a blistering plight,

my pale skin a canvas for summer’s bite.

Caught a glimpse in the mirror, the red is a flare,

like a warning light for too much time bare.

The balm offers comfort, but it’s no gentle kiss,

each touch like the memory of sun-soaked bliss.

I can’t find a position that eases the sting,

a blanket of heat, oh what this day brings.

It lingers like an ache, too real to ignore,

yet all I can do is wait for the shore.