Why she avoids the mirror and only looks at the night sky in January

Used Amy Kay’s poetry prompt: Write a pack of similes and compare until you can’t compare anymore.

the moles on her face

are like Orion’s Belt

hanging in the sky.

like chocolate chips

I want to lick off her face.

they drift on the surface

like trash in an ocean.

it looks like the back

of a ladybug

or a poisonous dart frog.

like the dusty wings

of a moth or butterfly

in a garden.

the moles on her face

are as loved as stale coffee.

loved like when someone parks

too close so you have to enter

through the passenger side.

loved like getting an oversized shirt

for your birthday.

when she smiles,

they disappear like lint

within folded sheets.

they’re as unremovable as the smell