You are one of many
until I’m 40, the doctor said,
head to toe but not the face
unless I’m unlucky.
Not sure which category
I fall into.

Lucky that only I can see you
and wonder if I’ll look back
and remember how small
you are, how unnoticeable.
Unlucky that maybe one day
once you really know me,
you’ll take over my body,
stretch out your redness

until I no longer
can be me without you.
But maybe I’m already not me
without you.