of shiny black
on the pouty leopard’s jowl
the blue fungus on the cheese
smelling foul

I’m the spot
playing hopscotch
with your eyes
the splotch of ink
on the crisp stationary
that runs through the pages
as it dries

I’m the spot
of blood on your face
from a razor’s cut
the burnt mark on the floor
from a cigarette ****

I’m the spot
on your pressed
white Saint Laurent
that fades in the wash
but won’t wear off
the phlegm you spit up
from your nagging cough

I'm the spot
of yellow
on the first winter snow
a particle of dust
as the wind bows