There is this mole that showed up on my eyelid like three years ago
I have never made peace with it
It is always there in the morning in my mirror
Fisting at me like I am the interruption
But this was my face first I keep stomping
I have pulled and pinched and punched
But this mole is here
To stay on my face
Until I look in the mirror
And welcome the addition
Like another freckle
A beauty mark
Angle kiss
Whatever
This is like life
Like lovers and storms
That messy my years
That I hate
And live in all that hate
Until I find myself easily lifting more weight
And I know
That every ball of hail has only made me giant
And I look in the mirror
At every gray strand of hair
The coal under my eyes
A bitty mole on my face
Has only made me more beautiful
Black ass poems. Black ass stories. Black ass art. Black ass life. Black ass love. Black ass hate. Black ass parenting. Black ass depression. Black ass mania. And other stuff too.
Yesterday, I was staring at the moles on my arms that have been there forever... one on the bicep of my left arm, one of the forearm of my right. I don't know when they were never not there and I started to write about them. What could I possibly say about them now that you've written this poem? Thank you.
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