by Justine C. Tajonera
It is there forever, a darkening of the skin,
a toughening of the surface.
I fell from the stairs of a beach house last June.
Even after getting my wound
I swam in the water until three o'clock when
the water receded with the tide.
We ate crab and lechon and seaweed
salad all afternoon.
I never thought the scar would stay.
I am not young anymore.
The scar lies there like regret or
remembrance. I sometimes can't tell.
I never really looked at my legs before,
not until after the scar.