What could I do to take your pain away?
You counsel others, but it’s yourself you’re talking to.
I see you nervously fiddle with your wristband--
I’m pretty sure I know what you once tried to do.

I wish I could share my healing skills--
there’s no one whom I want to help more.
But we’re far apart. It’s me who is helped by you.
Someone else must unlock your secret door.

Freud once said: It is love that cures the patient.
But can we truly love at will?
Take the love that’s freely given,
and banish what has made you ill.

Your husband: rotate

him and look at him closely --


See what he's hiding.

Step into summer's last light hew
Where the dreams of decades lived run true.
Shadowed fingers grip us there
To press deep the moments we once shared.
Twilight's chill preserves our past
It's unfathomable magic forever lasts.
Be lost within that mystic hold
Where our long loved secrets are never told.

Tom Lefort, June 2024

A photo: I'm six,

in the garden I bury --


a box with secrets.

Soft falls the light around your face
which drinks the night
and leaves no trace upon your sleeping form
as you lie curled and safe and warm
who am I to know or see
the secrets that you keep from me
we give our minds to flights of dreams
but keep them to ourselves it seems

the interior     night
he divided a dream into many dreams
worlds opened    diva-ing
and flares   pething out of darkness
seeming obedient  at first
                                 he visited
in truth      they were playful
  but explored his ugly secret details
        and gave no hint of a healing effect

deceived   he was tossed
   exhausted into a new day
                      of occupation and toil