The bruise on my knee has coloured itself
brown, purple lines and dots strike across it,
the sky at night I carry on my side.
Brief missteps, falling out of the bath, up
the stairs at the train station as commuters
climb over my back, step on my dress.
This failure to structure collagen correctly rips
my bones in and out of socket, no collagen
to buffer this crisp fall.
Watching this swelling, I carry my joints
upright, to my side, lift them above
my heart as I edge down concrete stairs.