Since my fifth birthday
I have always wanted a mustache.
The way they twitch
when someone smiles
makes my upper lip cold
with envy. I all but gave up
Westerns and Marx Brothers movies because,
who needs an hour and a half
reminder of their own biological shortcomings?
I clipped hair from my younger brother
and then myself,
(enough for my mom
to stuff a bow on my head
at Christmas)
each time fashioning a more realistic
lip companion, yet,
when I wore it out,
people only saw desperation
on my face.
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