silver seals.

They feel foreign
at first.

Strangers, uninvited,
camping out in your skin.

Not yours.
Not yet.

They sit loud in their silence
as the map redraws,
resting on the surface
for the world to read.

You blow on dandelions.
See flash in a dirty mirror.
You do not flinch.

Strength, set in flesh.

Bend your body.
Catch the light.
See how they almost —
shimmer.

Silver seals
to the stories that built you.