Under Light

A sliver of sun slipped in

through cracked blinds and hit my arm.

There it was — a freckle,

not big, not brave,

a speck stubborn as a bruise,

hiding in plain sight all this time.

I rolled up my sleeve,

a sudden stranger on pale skin,

staring at the mark

that never asked for notice.

How many days passed,

how many moments lost,

while this small defiance held its ground,

a silent witness to all my blind spots,

a stubborn, brown pause

caught in a beam of light?

It doesn’t plead for attention,

yet it claims a part of me,

unyielding in its quiet flare.