Tender Spots

Steam fogs the mirror, I watch the reveal,

my hand hovers, tracing each bruise,

a gentle reminder of moments I feel,

soft parts of me in need of muse.

Where the light cuts through, I see the skin glow,

a vulnerability waiting to tell,

it tells of secrets, stories unknown,

a quiet pulse where my worries dwell.

In that tender space, I find all my fears,

a whisper of all I refuse to hide,

it’s here in the silence, where hope reappears,

and I hold it close, unashamed, open wide.