I revisited
the patch
of sidewalk
where I
bled, one
tooth lost,
one chipped.
I say
it was
a skateboard
injury, which
is only
technically true.
I allow
myself this.
I remember
my friend
finding my
tooth, bringing
it back,
prodigal son. 
It’s been
over thirty
years, but
that concrete,
long clean
of my
blood, still
looks rough
enough to
do damage.
My lip
tingles at
the memory.