The Third Day

I was pulling my jeans up over my hip

when I saw the color of the skin.

The ache is mostly gone now—

I can walk without that hitch in my step.

But the mark is still there.

It’s a deep, heavy indigo in the center,

like a stone under shallow water,

surrounded by a ring of mustard-yellow

that looks like it’s trying to heal

but forgot how to be flesh.

It’s a quiet kind of storm cloud,

settled into the muscle,

waiting for the blood to carry it away.