'Acting like everything
is okay
when it isn't
creates a certain craziness,'
says Beetle, crouching
on the wooden slat porch
to pick up half a cigarette.
'Because you are all
survivors,'
she goes on, 'so you
push people away
so they don't find out.'
Find out what,
I ask myself.
Find out me,
is I think the answer.
Because the question
behind the question
as always
is
could you
love me?