Koan: What Was Your Face Before You Were Born?
BY YE CHUN
It was something waiting to fit on my skull—that’s not true.
It was the face I have now when I forget myself. Is that truer?
An affirmation on YouTube:
Say to your face in the mirror, “I love you. I love you so much.”
When the tallest boy forced me and my desk-mate to play couple,
my desk-mate had a little smile on his face, and I
despised him because I had the same face.
The school was called Ever-Red Elementary.
Years later, I would write a story in order to cut the tallest boy’s hand
with an apple knife and see red.
Years later, I walked into a D.C. law firm
and wore the seven-year-old’s face again when the boss yelled.
Is it true that all faces, before or after I was born,
look the same, in shame?
Lost faces must be so abundant in the world.
On the moon, the face rarely appears pleased.
My face before I was born was my mother’s face that I wear
when I lash out at my daughter.
And her mother’s face.
We gain no strength this way but get to give away
our face when it’s too much to carry.
Look at my face when you speak, a mentor once said to me.
But your face is hardly there to begin with, I could have said back.
My face before I was born had no eyes no mouth, like a cloud
where I can’t help but see faces.
I know the correct answer but won’t say it.
My face before I was born was my daughter’s face
when she was born. Let’s start from there again.
