back from a bruise

Something
Anew
From black
From blue
The faintest pink
Of flesh blooming
Like the first
Of my irises
Like the last
Of my dahlias

So soft
A hue
An almost
Translucent
Vulnerable
Subject to

Like the soft spot
On a newborn’s skull
Pulsing
With a heartbeat
Just beneath
Sunken surface

Fragile
As seedlings on the sill
China
On the top rack
A chicken’s neck
The human ego

Earthy
Like vetiver
Rooty
Amassed
Deeper than
It is high
It grows

The new
From the old
It can all be used
It
Now
Fleshy pink
From black and blue