Birthmark

On the eve of his birth, I came to caress
The mark on his chest, a somber lament
Shapeless and void of blood but etched on flesh.
Blacking by the day since the lash begun appearing
Cells too sad for procreating
To this day the charm still holds, still folds
unintentionally to his cheek to his tongue
Pulled back by the hairs he outgrew from the sun.
And the billions of stars he stole to this day
Swallowed his face with an irreparable grace
Leaving the banquet to empty suitors
With blind and unyielding tumors.