Marks of Belonging

In the glare of the bathroom, a soft light confides,

a faded birthmark where my story resides.

Each glance at the mirror, I trace its own tale,

a whispered connection, where skin doesn’t pale.

Permanent yet fragile, like ink on my skin,

this mark tells of places I’ve been and I’m in.

It anchors my essence, a token of grace,

reminding me always, of my rightful place.