New Map

The pharmacy lights are a special kind of cruel,

white enough to show the pores

I usually pretend aren't there.

On my collarbone, a dark speck.

I thought it was a flake of pepper

from the sandwich I ate standing up,

so I scratched until the skin flared

in a hot, angry circle of red.

It’s just a new freckle.

A sudden arrival of brown ink

marking a spot I never noticed

until I tried to erase it.