The first time we said your name
you broke through the flat crust of your grave 
and rose, a movable statue, 
walking and talking among us.

Since then you've grown a little.
We keep you slightly larger 
than life-size, reciting bits of your story, 
our favorite odds and ends.
Of all your faces we've chosen one 
for you to wear, a face wiped clean 
of sadness. Now you have no other.

You're in our power. Do we 
terrify you, do you wish 
for another face? Perhaps 
you want to be left in darkness.

But you have no say in the matter. 
As long as we live, we keep you 
from dying your real death, 
which is being forgotten. We say,
we don't want to abandon you, 
when we mean we can't let you go.