there is nothing more perfect
than the freckles on your nose,
and the way they scatter like raindrops
on your cheeks.

they remind me of a sky
with new fallen snowflakes,
each one different
in size and shape.

i know how much you hate them,
you say they're distracting,
misformed,
or decorate your face wrongly.

maliciously, you cover them,
peach-colored paint dries
the bridge of your nose cracks,
and a piece of you fades with it.

summer comes and the paint melts off,
the facade with it,
and once again the sun can paint
drops of caramel on your skin.