The antihistamine melted on my tongue

The antihistamine melted on my tongue,

a bitter white flower blooming in the throat.

Suddenly I’m back in the yellow kitchen,

watching my mother shake the plastic boat.

The orange cap was sticky with the spill,

a thick, chalky pink residue at the base.

She’d pour the syrup with a steady hand,

while I prepared to make my dying face.

It tasted like a chemical red lie,

like a candy that had rotted in the sun.

I’d swallow hard and feel the sugar burn

until the spoon was licked and I was done.