It's a poem, actually. Thanks to Marilyn Taylor for sending it through.

Never Land

  I don't wish you were one

                         of The Jackson Five

            tonight, only you were

 

still inside yourself

                          unchanged by the vampire

            moonlight. So eager to

 

play The Other,

                          did you forget

            Dracula was singled out

 

because of his dark hair

                          & olive skin? After

            you became your cover,

 

tabloid headlines

                          grafted your name

            to a blond boy's.

 

The personals bled

                          through newsprint,

            across your face. Victor

 

Frankenstein knew we must

                          love our inventions. Now,

            maybe skin will start to grow

 

over the lies & subtract

                          everything that under-

            mines nose & cheekbone.

 

You could tell us if

                          loneliness is what

            makes the sparrow sing.

 

Michael, don't care

                          what the makeup

            artist says, you know

 

your sperm will never

                          reproduce that face

            in the oval mirror.

 

--Yusef Komunyakaa. Pleasure Dome: New & Selected Poems. Wesleyan UP, 2001.Y