at night
when everything of me is exposed
I fumble with my hands,
not sure where to
misplace them
and as it comes to bother me
in a real sort of way-
I slip them on the underside of my pillow
leasing the heavy weight my cheek has to bear
onto the clasped binds of my
mis-script prayers.

if I was a romantic person,
I'd pay attention to how he smiles
when a neighboring
baby coos
at an item
while we wait
in line.

I have all of these bruises
on my arms and legs
and this
high yellow birthmark
that rests at the cliff of my
thigh just before it dives into my
right knee,
and these black marks that
people have come to name
as a sign of beauty
(but that's not the case.)
They sit on my
right *******
and my right index
and my left pinky
and right above my upper lip
on the left side of my face-
all of which I constantly wonder
if they began to exist
only when I began to exist
or if they've been there all along
just waiting for my body
to peer into existence,
I really can't say
exactly when
all of these birthmarks
and beauty marks
and bruises
all
began to
exist
but I really do
wonder
about them.