s i x: secrets
We are the secret,
that many people whisper
behind closed doors,
or shove up right against
to hear if the rumors
ring true.
The only testimony
that I would need to
hold,
to make sure I
don't believe we're
just a haze or pigment
of my imagination,
would be the
satin sweater I remember
once tearing off
and throwing it to
the corner of my room.
The very one I curl
up to sometimes
when I can't get to sleep
because I am not in
your arms.
We are the secret
that is too dirty to be
spoken on the tongue
of any one daring to
reveal us;
because whatever stays
locked behind the
hinges of my room
stays between you and I,
even when you never
want to talk about it
after.
