Shannon Poggi

Blushing has never particularly enthralled me. I’ve found that most people blush like a kettle’s boil, the color careening down their neck like a hot rash. I’m no different.  I often find that I color myself more with sheer embarrassment. 

I had never seen blush bloom before. I’ve seen it spackle or spot, burst or clot, but I’ve never seen anyone blush like you. 

 So, I really don’t understand why you tilt away. Maybe you don’t understand why I turn away either, or maybe you enjoy it, knowing I’ve been reduced to shambles. 

Oddly, I didn’t find myself proud when I successfully made you blush for the first time—I was in awe.  I’ve never seen something so vulnerable look so elegant. The color starts at the apple of your cheeks, and it whorls around like lilies lilting over river waves. When it fades, the blush flows in the opposite direction, gently rippling back out of sight. I hope that I can continue to make you blush for as long as you’ll have me.

Shannon Poggi is a writer and illustrator who has been previously published in the House of Long Shadows magazine, Chartium magazine, FERAL: A Journal of Poetry and Art, and The Willow Literary Magazine.