Between you and me.
There is a space of flesh just beneath my navel, to the right, and above my hip bone that holds a constellation of freckles, or beauty marks as my mother used to call them. It looks like Orion’s Belt.
Once, when I was a little girl, around eight-year’s old, or maybe it was ten, someone told me to go count them, all the freckles, all the beauty marks. Because, they said, if I had more than a hundred, I was beautiful.