Thursday, January 7, 2016


Sometimes, I want our love to be
Discovered; like a teenager, caught
With the lingering smell of smoke
In her hair; or, a stray bud at
A bachelor pad’s ashtray with a
Lipstick mark. Some tell-tale sign, a
Dead giveaway. But then
We are way too careful, burying
Passion in pillows and
Blankets, wiping off evidence with
Kitchen paper towels flushed, not thrown…

Sometimes, I want our love to be
Discovered, but then I realize that
It is not enough, this love, between
Us. It never will be…
And while we will
Break down and
Melt and die and even be
Reborn in each other, inside
Each other, we
Will never never
Let our love be discovered.

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