Secrets You’d Have to Know before You Could Tell

Well, I walked back down the hillside
’cause I just made out your face
in the shadows and the shallows
where you couldn’t catch your breath.
You talked in brightest colors,
and my heart beat like a breeze.
With a soul bent out of plastic,
could we make it past the present?
Would we drown beyond the sea?
And though I love your graceless care,
over-fastened to my senseless wit,
I have never loved another
like the static ebb of memory
washing over tightened skin.
It’s not a dispossessed fixation
or acceptance of the flesh.
And it’s not your heart and soul–
not mind and certainly not me.
But somewhere in between us,
things resembling one another,
and it’s good enough for me.