Scarface

I came

As soon as I heard what had happened.

You were still alive.

I would have thanked God

If that would have made any sense.

You were not dead.

I found you in front of your parents’ house.

The house where you and your sister were born.

A cabin

Made of logs from the World’s Fair.

You were sitting alone in a plastic deck chair.

You wore a white linen dress

And a large cotton bandage on your right cheek.

My face was numb

And my heart beat furious.

We hugged and you showed me.

Long thin marks and black stitching

Shined up with Vaseline. You told me

I was a liar when I said you were beautiful.

We ate a quiet dinner with your family.

They would not look you in the eye.

I was making up the pull out couch

In the guest room after everyone went to bed.

I sat in the lamplight and began to weep.

I had not cried in years

And my chest was heaving.

I looked up to see you in the doorway.

I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands

And tried to be a man.

You came to me and I hugged your waist.

I wanted to be your shield.

You wanted to make love

And feel something that was not so sad.

You stared at me throughout and I wanted you to believe

That I had not been a liar on the lawn.