first, they’ll turn green-blue
then purple
sometimes
then they’ll fade away into yellow
and vanish
bruises are like that
no scar
no blush
they are
tattooed in
a moment of impact
staining skin
bruises are like that
they leave colours behind
and nothing
everything
a story
of accident
or not-so-much-accident
incident
maybe
bruises are like that
I don’t remember sitting in the very first chair I ever sat in but I’ve seen it later on: red and ornamented, long-legged, barred. Then came the kitchen bench, bottles of juice lined up neatly behind
there’s the water here’s the drop drip drop SPLASH drip drop SPLASH hit the window down the pane in rivers small and searching pushing on then: a pool see-through trembling but stretching perspectives