The Secrets That You Keep
it is when everyone leaves the room
when everyone goes to their respective places
that one gets to account for the secrets
the fingers begin to count
the heart to beat and the body undresses its own skin
one faces the mirror
and sees the skeletons
in the closet the new clothes are wary to be given attention
'me now? ' i need a structure for my clothes so i may have the shape
you choose, as one by one you take the cartilages and flesh
some toes and nails
to compose yourself again
one takes the mask
the one that they shall love
and the clothes acceptable for the next party
and when they come
the conversations begin
'how nice have you grown' and you compliment too
'well this has always been me' and then you sip the tea
both of you are suspicious
but who cares? the party begins.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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