New Map

The bulb above the mirror is a jagged white glare,

finding every shadow that shouldn't be there.

I scrubbed at the bridge of my nose with the soap,

chasing a smudge with a desperate hope.

But the speck is a permanent, coffee-dark stain,

a tiny brown mark where the glasses have lain.

A dot on the skin where the bone meets the light,

settling in for the rest of the night.