Remember?
The first secret no one knew, but me and you?

Was it secret from Daddy or Mommy?
from boys, or from girls, or the rest of the world?

Did we agree to lie to keep the secret?
Is that how it got sacred?

Do you recall what that secret is?
Is there some rite we must redo?

I look around and think, if life were the secret,
it is leaking.
And I seem to have forgotten what parts were sacred
and what parts are not.

Are you still here? Is this sacred still?

Our secret place, quiet place,
where peace
seeps beneath a sludge of lies,
under which
the hidden source of all we ever hoped
would never
be exposed, lay in secret innocense,
pure as a child's promise,

more precious for its being hidden all these years.

A seed, you said we'd see fruit from
one day.

Wait and see, I heard you say.

But I am blind, or this is night.