A Dark Speck

The fluorescent light,

white, in the bathroom.

No mercy.

I reached, for the soap, and saw it.

A pinpoint.

Blacker than the old scar,

a pale stitch on the forearm,

from a childhood fall.

This one, a raised dot.

Like a fly's speck, caught

under the skin.

And it hadn't been there.

Or I hadn't seen it.

Not before.

It sat, silent.

A new detail.

Uninvited.

A tiny, dark seed,

planted on my own flesh,

without my leave.

Just there.