My Skin and Freckles

Kenya, my sister, was always the
strong one. She dressed as a soldier for Halloween
with her hair in snappy black braids. I dressed as
an apple, floppy felt rompers in red.

A tiger chasing
a badger scribbled in crayon
on my homework.

A tiger sprawled
on a rock with arms
like noodles.

I hardly dare knock on your door;
my fingers tremble and I push my hands
into my hair, red floppy curls into my eyes;
I admire your snappy black eyes; I pour milk
over cereal and the colour reminds me of my
skin and freckles.