One year ago this week, I broke my leg.
After the Break
Cast off, her legs are asymmetrical.
They don’t appear to be from the same girl.
The fractured right is fat around the knee
but wasted, dented in above the thigh
like it’s been hit. Left tapers as it should.
And though she shaved them both this morning, Right
is dotted prickly black while Left feels smooth.
Right foot’s edemaed, scarred and bruised. When not
concealed, it sunburns easier than Left.
Both limbs are cursed or blessed, she isn’t sure,
with veins beneath the skin in cinder grey
that look stagnate but hide the gush inside.
They trace lines to her heart like termite trails
ascend to bulbous nests on mangrove trees.