show me your scars

she me your scars

she says to me, pointing at my
arm.

dog bite, I tell her,

then lift my shirt to show
her one on

my shoulder,
a thick half moon
gone pink.

knife fight
in high school with billy Arnold.

I pull up
my pant leg and show her
a bite

mark on my calf.
dog bite, stray that I tried
to get
out of the street.

the nip on my rib cage,
tiger shark, well no, actually
my ex wife did

that with a fountain pen,
trying to make me sign the property
settlement

while in mediation.

i show her a long line
on the back of my
hand.

sushi bar, I got over anxious
and reached over the bar

to grab

a rice roll with crunchy shrimp.

and you?

no, she says. none yet.
at least not on the surface.
most of mine are below the skin.

and please, if we fall in love,

promise to not give me anymore,
okay?