I’ve got a scar on my knee
from the time your wife spun me
when we danced.
She pulled me clockwise,
I turned counter
and slid to the ground like a salamander
scraping the floor onto my knee.
Each time I think about what happened
I touch the scar on my knee.
I recall that bruises blooming with violent hues
can be reduced to anorexic red lines
eventual newborn skin to match the off-white
each time I touch the scar on my knee.
It will not be the first thing you notice