dirty little pretty bruise
The battle scars one can be proud of. All over my
Body, the blacks and blues and reds convene and make their
Habitat under my bare skin. An honor one could gain by
Self-destruction and accidental mishap. The plot for the colors
To appear when least expected works every time. Every day is
Another discovery. Another discovery is an unexpected surprise.
If not on the arms, then the legs, then the back or the torso. It must be
When I slam my body against the wall while I slumber, falling down from
Five feet high, earning a rugburn during the process. The aggressive
Touch feels like rough hands grabbing my skin with force. Bruises. They
Come to show off their unexpected beauty The mix of pure black with
Caliginous blues and radiant reds circling around my bloodstream
Where the skin aches in pain and turns from ivory to bruise. The scar that
Stays temporary when the initial pain fades away and my flesh gets
Distracted. My badge of honor that I survived this nasty spill/little accident
That caught me off guard during the day/night, displayed proudly on my
Arms and legs for the whole world to witness. The wonder of a scar
In full bloom makes me wish that the bruise can stay with me forever, so I can
Relish the stunning joy in the blacks, reds and blues. It will be my dirty
Secret that nobody else has to know. I can share the short version of
The story that goes with my secret, but I can choose not to divulge the
Specific details one would want to hear. I can actually embellish the
Truth and make-believe a story on how someone punched me by mistake,
Causing my body to welt up in pain. Or in the heat of passion, my partner
Put too much pressure against my body when he touched me and left his
Amorphous mark where he can find it and boast to himself and I.
More fascinating than a simple “I fell out of bed, again”, yes.
Just so I have another moment to lovingly admire the dirty little secret
I have marked on my flesh.
