...and I’m Floating

Seborrheic keratosis. It’s almost a shame
to lose what looks like a grainy mole
on the surface of my thigh. A blemish
I don’t much dwell on now bikini days
have gone. It does no harm
and once upon a time, before you grew blind
in one eye, the other so light-sensitive
it craves perpetual hibernation;
before rheumatics made a mockery
of one hand; I remember a touch so full
of lust and love, it blasted me
far over the earth. With trembling empathy
for my faded birthmark,
I zoom into the past

Sally Festing

If you have any thoughts on this poem, Sally Festing  would be pleased to hear them.