I am marked by so many things.
The sun in my freckles and time in my wrinkles.
Life in my curves and the aches in my body.
The wind that dances in my hair and across my skin, the rumble of purrs against my palm and the licks on my calves.
By men in my heart and my parents on my soul.
Sour, salty, sweet and bitter. Umami on my tongue.
I am marked by my child, a scoring on my existence, and the moon in my eyes when I open them at night.
I am a canvas, once blank, but forever tattooed.
If I hold still long enough, you’ll see for yourself.