Mine Own Flesh, My body by Shelly Jackson, all mashed up by Adrien Regnier

Knees

I haven't mentioned the sweet, rich smell of the open cut.

Shins

I ran full-tilt into my bedroom and threw myself onto my bed, banging my shins

Tattoos

I have a black ampersand -- & -- about one and a half inches high.

Or how the scab would soften in the bath