In the mornings, my body is a map of contusions. The green-grey imprints of fingertips on thighs. Mulled wine tracks of tiny broken blood vessels covering the right shoulder. The length of each rise of the spine shadowed in pencil grey. Trailing to the lower back explosion. A fist sized puddle of indigo-yellow-black shine. Knees and elbows stained of printer's ink. Lips maroon glow pout. Sip hot coffee carefully.