top of page

After Blistered Tongue by Kika Man 文詠玲

comes loose the palate,

the aftermath of fresh pineapple.

Early summer ice cream, specked

with the taste of iron,

even the sky bronzed, the clouds

too, have a bite that does not let go.

Kitestring strung to the sun, ooh-ooh

to the rhythm of barred rituals.

We are writing at home and we are fishing

in the sea.

A calm day – a frenzied wind –

lost in the tree canopies.

There is only one candle left

and it has turned our shadows

into outstretched toads sliding down mountain walls,

the fallen star fruit rots.

This trail turned pungent,

the night still aflame,

‘tis a ghost story

for the moppets and the witches.


Kika Man 文詠玲 (they/them) is a writer from Belgium and Hong Kong. Kika writes about their mixed heritage, mental health, about music, and blueness. They grapple daily with the question of where one community starts and the other ends, they emphasize tenderness and platonic affections above all. They are one of the founding members of Slam-T (spoken word & slam poetry platform) and a PhD Candidate in Cultural Studies at the Chinese University of Hong Kong working on queer/ing zines. Kika is the author of Let the Mourning Come (Prolific Pulse LLC, 2022) and they have been published in Capsule Stories, Anti-Heroin Chic, Bridge, and others. You can find Kika on Twitter and Instagram @kikawinling and further on

POET'S INSPO CHOICE:  Blistered Tongue — Emily Magpie


Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page