beauty marks and
kisses from angels
dots on white
checked every year

they made my mom sick
they burned them
cut them
froze them
they cover her more than me
like sprinkles
little moments in time
spread over her body
my fingers would trail them
feel the way they changed her skin
I loved her dark spots
until I realized they did not love her

I've grown
my skin has stretched mine
pulled my dark spots apart from where they started

If I could show you just how much I've changed
I would show you with my dark spots
I would show you how they started here
and moved
and changed
and grew
I would tell you how one dark spot has tracked my growth
it never expected to be pulled down with the years
but my growth prevailed and there it lies
miles away from it's home

I would show you the one that I touch when I am nervous
but not a bad nervous
the nervous that excites
that entices
that knows there is more to find
an adventure abroad
your love to steal
I touched this dark spot when I first saw you
I still run my finger over it
every time we meet  

I would show you the scar
where one was cut out
where my kiss from an angel
was suspected to be a kiss from cruel fate
where my Mother's sickness
shined through me
where I felt mortality for the first time
I lost my first tooth that summer day
hours before they took my first dark spot
it was as if my body knew it was time to grow up
now that I had thought of death
there was no point for baby teeth
their assessments were wrong
my dark spot was an angel's kiss
but the risk was too great
a lighter body and an aged mind moved forward
my kiss gone
my blessings gone as well

I would show you the ones that come every year
that lightly dust my nose
I would run your finger over the skin
to show you that they are as fleeting as the season
that they pop up as fast as they leave
just like you did
you left with those dark spots

I would show you the ones that make me who I am
make me who we are
the triangle on my left arm
the triangle that all the women in my family share
the women that are the strongest I know
that have their own dark spots
their own stories
such a vast valley between our lives
joined by our love
by our past
by our dark spots
all in the same shape

I would show you my fourth dark spot
I would show you the thing that I am most proud and humiliated of
the fact that I am not wholly one of them
the fact that I am my own

I would ask you to flip me over
to run your hand across my back
to clutch my ribs
to touch the dark spots I cannot see
to give you the dark spots that are for you
I would show you the dark spots that are for you when I walk away
when I lay next to you
under you
in front of you

if I could show you how much I've changed
I would show you my dark spots
the ones that belong to you
the ones that belong to the angels
the ones that belong to the cruel fate
the ones that are from my mother
I would show you the ones that bind me to the women in my family
but most of all
I would show you the ones that are just mine
that only I know
I want you to know them too

I want you to know my dark spots

I wish they would wake me
but they just poke
and pry
at my deteriorating conscious

Just as I wish you would wake me
from my voluntary sleep
and my shifting faith

The only thing that pulls me out of myself
that I have lost almost entirely
is one strangers words to another

It is over and I know it
but when will it end

he wants me to give him what I write
that's not quite what he is asking for
however

he wants me to give him what I write about him
he wants me to write about him
it is him that he wants me to ***** and assign meaning to

it is unfortunate
because he no longer excites

instead he would find lines about you
who sat in this chair
this time yesterday

I would write for you
I would give you my work
but only because you would not ask
only because you do not want it

I must have given you enough
for you to be content with the loss of me

I must have allowed you to grow properly
in order to stay stagnant while I slip away

I must have supplied you with ample self worth
for you you to stay stagnant while I lunge in a another direction

I must have made myself so replaceable
for you to not even consider a retort

it is a funny thing, what infatuation can do

when I see you and I breathe I can feel every cell
and see past the next moment
I can feel the way you move

anything can be a catalyst for you
a note in a song
my hair against my lip

I want to turn your head and make you see me the way I do

because with you comes this feeling
and with this feeling

oh I'm writing and singing
and dancing and moving
and even the cold air is welcome

but a year ago this poem had a different subject
why can I not infatuate myself
and keep constant the excitement of possibility

must I rely on a nameless stranger

the watch my Mother gave me
as an after thought
while I was jumping back on the train
ticks far too loud

I have to stop it
I have to pull the *** out
to stop time in place


but when I need it
I promptly return it to my wrist
and set time back to the present
and let it tick
tock
and let my heartbeat align with the rhythm

you are just like the watch
too much
too loud
overpowering
except when I need you

so I will stop the time
and freeze you in place
and hope that soon I will need you
and my heart will beat again in your rhythm

but until then
I dance in the silence
I have created by banishing you

I have made a mistake
that I must carry on
for the good of us both

if there was ever a moment
that I was sure I loved you
it was the one where I left

we both hung on the phone
sadness damp in the air
trying not to say goodbye
scaring away tomorrow morning

but now tomorrow morning has come
with no pomp and circumstance

only an empty girl alone in her head
pulling her hair
hoping for it to grow faster