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Beloved Skin

  • Apr 18, 2023
  • 1 min read
by Mya Frame

My skin is a mottled canvas,

Tender pink indents of old scars,

Tawny splotches of discoloration,

Constellations of freckles coating my arms like sleeves,

Rosy lines across my hips,

Veins twisting and crossing like blue webbing,

Dark yellows, purples, and greens

Of old bruises still trying to heal.


My marks show me that I have lived,

That I am living. Not yet healed,

But healing.


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