The Bruise and The Baptism

I had a vision of rinsing off a bruise, as
if it was paint dried on the skin, but it is
not a surface stain and it goes deep into the bones.
So everyday, I must wash myself, dip the body in the
waves, coax the wounded colors out from deep
within, wring the purple from the flesh, let the
painful hues sink through the ripples of the
water in which I bathe. And though the skin is
ripe with the terror of these imprints, and
though I am afflicted with these sores, I will
baptize the blasphemy of this trauma and
daily make myself new.