Every Last Drop

Secret

I know it—
I do
— what's written on these walls.
Obvious but we don't speak it.
Yes, it's our elephant-sized secret.
You rampage and riot
only for the house to fall quiet.
The next day: "I didn't say that."
You land verbal blows
and follow it with "I was just kidding, though."
A sad smile pulls at my lips,
because once I would've believed you—
once I would've fallen and tripped
over all your corkscrew 
sort of tension, attack, and lies.
But now you sell, and I don't buy.
I say nothing, though.
I don't even cry.
You think I'm fooled,
and l allow the ruse.

But, oh, I know the secret.
I do.

I see through.