Secrets I keep

Something regurgitated
To my memory
I suppose I cannot hide
The nature of my sentiments
Toward it

It regurgitated

But no, I do not expel
I hide
The sour reminder
I keep it in my spirit
In- voluntary confinement
Paralyzed between
And the unpleasant consequence
Of attempt to swallow it back
Down into
The recesses of my closets
No guarantees
It won’t come back
With twice the textured detail

By now
I’ve painted just enough
An image
To where your disgust
With me
Nearly matches mine

And even as you don’t yet know
What it is that turns and turns my soul

Love, if I do spill the beans
Will we be free
Of these secrets?

Love, if I tell you this thing
Have mercy



Copyright © 2018 A.M. Wilsonne

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