the rub, the curse

he stood broad in front of a dirty mirror  
and rubbed medicated cream through a patchy  
but well-groomed beard  
and onto the skin of his jawline.  
“i have a skin condition,” he explains.
goddamn, I wish it were that easy for me.  
i have a condition, too
but it’s underneath my skin,
underneath the fat,
around and inside my bones.
don’t even know what the hell it is.
there is no cream for my condition,
just the rub.