There’s a scar I’m not allowed to see.

To the naked eye, it’s practically undetectable.

The eyes often wander when the skin and the area are exposed –

Distracted by the tan and curves and beauty that abounds but

Compliments can only be overridden by the faded blemish running up and down –

Coursing the length of her body and away from intimacy

Mention of it incurs averted eyes and awkwardness.

Bedside manner has become commonplace – a simple existing recognition of adherence.

He knows the places not to touch – all while the reason still goes unexplained.

He can only be told the procedure took its toll.

Frustration having been heightened by something that isn’t quite dishonesty

The want to reciprocate pleasure has been interrupted by this wound.

In time, it will destroy him as well.

POETRY_Michael Weems