Freckles

I have one freckle

On my palm.

It appeared one day

In tenth grade.

 

It's not a very significant freckle -

Small, hashy brown, lumpy.

I hated its randomness,

Its exclusiveness (why only one?)

I hated its asymmetrical choice:

Not in the middle of the palm, but

Lower, almost to the wrist, as if it

Couldn’t decide which way to grow.

 

I'd scratch at it like I had

At that other one, the one

Under my left breast.

Scratched that one

Raw, clean off, but it always

Came back, uglier and darker.

 

When I met him,

He kissed my palms

So many times I thought

His lips were made of freckles.

He kissed my palms, each time

Twice - the first was always

Lingering, the second one

Reassurance.

 

He told me how much

He loved them -

The one on the small

Of my back, the left

Curve on my neck,

The one nestled in the

Dimple of my right ear.

 

Even the bizarre, rectangular

smudge on my knee my sister

Always said looked like

Melted chocolate.

 

He kissed each one and

With his lips and

Tongue and

Palms said

This -- 

I want to taste every star,

Every piece,

Every constellation.

 

I want to be lost,

He’d say.

 

His words were branding you,

Hot like steel, he was burning

You alive with his lips and

Tongue and

Palms.

You are my shooting star,

He'd say. 

 

The first time you saw a shooting star,

I couldn’t breathe.

I felt like everything in my life

Had been waiting for that star.

This one was unlike any others

I would see. 

 

They’re usually quick, faster than

Blinks or thoughts,

The speed of light.

He’d say.

 

But this one, I said,
lingered in the sky like

Love on front porches.

This one, I said,

Lasted so long it looked

Like a painting in the sky,

A nocturnal rainbow,

Streaked through the

Night, and all, all yours.

 

Loving him was not a

Lingering shooting star or

Warm lips -

He was always hot,

Hot, burning my tongue,

Making me lose my sense of taste,

Sensitive to every feeling,

my raw, raw tongue,

Hung numb between my

Teeth.

 

Everything about him scalded me,

Left behind third degree burns.

What used to envelope me like

a warm bubble bath now gave me 

raised rashes on places I didn't 

even know could be hurt. 

I lathered lotion in secret,

Covered my skin with makeup,

So he would never see how his

Hot, quick tongue left

Burnt bruises on my palms.

And that freckle - the one he 

said he loved - now an

angry reminder of where

his hands have been and

where his lips have touched - 

the thought of him alone 

scathes me. Every time. 

 

I saw a shooting star,

Months after I left him.

My breath sucked in, naturally,

Like a hiccup. A small

Gasp of breath escaped me.

It was gone before I even

Realized it was there.

My reaction was automatic,

My heart took minutes to slow down.

I learned that shooting stars

Are not stars like the freckles

On my wrist, my back, my ear,

The asymmetrical sun on my palm -

Shooting stars are meteors,
I learned, burning up in the

Atmosphere, I learned,

After consuming and blackening

Too much for too long, I learned.

 

I realized then that he,

He was a meteor -

I thought his burning was beautiful,

So metaphorical for his love for me,

That I didn’t even realize I feared

When the meteor would hit my earthy

Skin, singeing every part of me.

And I learned that

when he said I was a star

in his galaxy, that I would burn up

soon - as he intended. 

I was temporary. 

And how dare he compare me

To the stars in the sky above. 

Reviews

[Beccy]

There are many, many lines in this poem that poets would sell their souls to have written; but the ones that imprinted the most in my mind, were;

'But this one, you said,
lingered in the sky like
Love on front porches.'

Such an incredible image was conjured up in my mind as I read those three lines; and the whole poem is just so beautifully crafted.

Beccy.

[Kelley Quinn]

Thank you so much Beccy for your kind words. It means a lot!

[Silver]

Honestly , this is the most beautiful poem I read for many years , you stubbed a knife in my heart with your words , you painted your pain , so much pain in here , you created a beautiful comparison between your freckles and the stars . You told me the story in your beautiful way

[Kelley Quinn]

Thank you so much! That truly means so much to me. I definitely appreciate your words and honesty!

[Silver]

:) you are welcome

[theHobbit]

This is such a beautiful poem. Fantastic imagery, and I really loved how you described the emotions and thoughts so vividly. And the last two lines perfectly summed up the story you told.

[Kelley Quinn]

Thank you so much!! I really appreciate it!