when i sit
on a dilapidated shed
barefoot. again

                           i laugh out loud to the pain i
                           was in
                           the rock i had stepped on
                           embedded in skin

                          this rock, this pebble, this stone-cold
                          killer
                          at a closer look
                          left only a scratch?

              when i held the rock
              in the palm of my hand
              it was coal-black and
              reflective; i saw myself within.
              "unique-cality" i probably said.

the scar may last a year or two
but the blood has stopped ebbing, and this skin
of mine is anew