Saturday, January 23, 2016


He's going to stand out no matter where he goes because
he's so beautiful.
The glasses throw you off at first,
you know there's a problem
but you can't quite figure out
what it is.

You want to reach out and touch him,
especially his hair.

You stare,
catch yourself doing it,
and look away.
But then, you look back again,
for a quick glimpse to
see if he's real.

It's okay,
he's used to it by now,
seems to like the attention,
especially when girls
are giving it.

He walks right over to chat,
tells them about his favorite Disney movie.
He knows all dialogue,
delivers every line the same way
it's said in the movie.

They giggle
and talk about how cute he is.

You can touch him,
but don't grab, not ever,
or his mom will know,
and she'll get you
for messing with her little boy.

She'll know because his skin
is magical.
It's the tattletale.
His mother will find
your print.

Then he will tell her
how it happened.
He's different,
but he isn't silent,
not his mouth, and definitely
not his skin.

She may hear the story
in a jumbled mixture of  Disney plots,
but she will hear it.

I saw him try to outrun
his teacher and principal one morning.
He was picking up speed,
the silky hair flying,
when they came up on each side and scooped him up,
under his elbows.

It looked sorta fun, like they were teaching him to fly
and this was the take-off.
Three giant steps and he was back in his classroom.
They made it look easy.

I wanted to be able to do that, too.
So, I went back to school
to learn how.