I hold a secret whispered in darkness
between the wooden walled rooms of dreams. Light
as the scent of a neighbor's fresh baked cake
it's force of memories weighs on my chest,
and I wake up sweating, gasping for air.
All those years happiness flowed through the marked
rows of our lives and bloomed spectacular
fireworks of color. We tilled. We kept
the harvest to ourselves. All thos years we
watched the parched lives of others blown confused
and barren. Cartographic divisions
of love's vast land based on who is willing.
My secret is behind this public smile.
Only his portion of land is reclaimed.
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