In honor of the fantastic, fist-sized bruise on my right leg from a softball incident last Tuesday night, I want to share a poem from my undergraduate portfolio. (Also, I haven’t been posting enough because I’ve been so darn busy.) Enjoy.
Bruised, by Alexa L.
written December 5, 2007
My knee swelled up,
an unpoppable balloon
of skin. But not black and blue,
not cliché in its blushed cheek.
A knee with a shiner.
It began in deep purples, like wine was spilled
and stained the outer edges—
too drunk for proper aim, then over time
it lightened to browns, like shredded
tree bark, future table legs, with knots and circles
embedded in the wood,
where we could sit and talk over shell pasta and beer.
Then greenish-yellow—not that of young children’s peas,
but of an unripe banana on the fruit hook in the kitchen,
still speckled with bits of tan.
Then pink, as if lovers left a bit of heat
over spots where they breathed and sucked
until they reached the toes,
until the bruise was gone.
Kiss it and make it better.