You ask me questions,
as if your curiosity itself entitled you to the answers.
Secrets,
which in the simple act of their existence engender in us a fierce protectiveness;
We want to shelter them.
answers,
which before you no one even knew to ask for.
“Do I think you’ll judge me for them?”
you ask.
And of course
of course I do.
But,
how could that be it?
Your curiosity doesn’t earn you the right of entry.