bruised iv: i wear your presents on my sleeve

bruises are the only
true currency

the common tongue written
on the tabula rasa of our skin
gentle reminders
of an ever-changing language
uttered by all
from newborns to the dying

***

the dragonfly who painted me
left me none
the man who adorned me
left me none

you who never touched me
left me the worst one

***

you send me bruises when you leave
i wear your presents on my sleeve

***

i return to the one
who adorn me with jewels
and with pain

your first lesson
to forget and remember
and forget again

i’ll find the dragonfly
who’ll sing me a lullaby
in the tongue that’s
yours and mine

your only lesson
to remember and forget
and remember again

***

perhaps you can walk away
again
and i will turn the other way
mutely murmuring that language
you first taught me

i shall prove to be
the most eloquent speaker
yet

walk away again
perhaps now
i would break

and what is broken
will not bruise