From the days I spent bathing

in warm light that danced around me,

freckles form fragmented constellations.

From the time I grew up 

faster than my mother ever could have imagined,

my skin is stretched and imperfect.

From the moments I fell,

memories are etched in my skin:

each telling its own story.

From time I was born,

the world had its way with me,

branding me with flaws that change me.

From the time I realized

flaws are what make me flawless,

I realized, too, that  I have lived.