The Hickeys on My Cheeks

Image: origin unknown

For decades,

the Sun has planted

passionate

hickeys upon my cheeks.

Brown and splotchy,

they greet my eyes in

the reflections of glass

and puddle,

And my mind caresses

the memories of so many lusty,

blue-sky rendezvous.

Oh, but,

Recently,

a woman gasped

at the sight of me:

“You have so many

liver spots!”

she exclaimed.

Her expressions spoke

of horror -

like Death himself

had just, suddenly,

for the first time ever,

whispered in her ear:

“People age.

Then people die.

You too.”

And, in a voice pleading

for naiveté,

she moused:

“You can cover them

with make up,

you know.”

Two years prior,

a dermatologist

enthusiastically offered to

“make them go away.”

I,

looking inside,

declined.

Hmmm.

Why, I wonder,

would anyone want

to destroy evidence

of life-long courtship

with a Faithful Lover?

No.

These that mark me

are the love notes

of Life.

I am growing older

and I shall do what

any woman would

do who has

wisdomed

through her

experience of Love Making.

I shall, until I die,

invite

a notorious

ménage à trios

with Crows.

© 2010-12 Jamie K. Reaser

Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" (www.hiraethpress.com)