#bruises

i clocked the watch once and wished its red hand swept across your face i knew i’d want the date

i saw the toy’s hallmark that predates its maker cupid’s bow pointillism it looked best in color

i slipped on a staircase tripped on slippery oak fell into a concrete pool cut and bruised joints

you caught me there held me — rubbed salt into my fresh wounds to heal and to hurt me

a thin black strap is all that holds back the sun when this camera falls it’ll leak light forever

three solid bands form an unbroken bracelet brass never gleamed until becoming a label

holding mine down against white silk, gray wool, graffiti it’s easy to go deep