When in the drowsy aftermath of sex
some playful lover notices the scar
and traces it with his finger, asking
what’s that, I fall into the easy lie
“Oh, a remnant of childhood. It’s nothing”
I kiss him and distract him from the truth.
Nothing indeed. Gary wrestled the knife
from my hand with superhuman strength,
keeping me on this side of existence.
The surgeon asked “Does he believe in God?”
Gary said yes. “Good. That’s what saved him”
That’s how I live with this sweet nothing:
with Faith, not shame, with triumph not regret.
Dennis Rhodes poems have been collection in Spiritus Pizza and other poems, Entering Dennis, and most recently, The Letter I. His work has been published in The Jersey Journal, New York Newsday, Fine Gardening, Ibbetson Street, Alembic, Chelsea Station, and many other publications.