“Why on earth would a man raise his hand against himself, even in sleep?” “The Scratch” by Raymond Carver?

I woke up with a spot of blood

over my eye. A scratch

halfway across my forehead.

But I’m sleeping alone these days.

Why on earth would a man raise his hand

against himself, even in sleep?

It’s this and similar questions

I’m trying to answer this morning.

As I study my face in the window.

The Scratch

Raymond Carver

Before I try to analyze this, is what I've pasted above the entire text of "The Scratch?"