Member-only story
Left Bared in the Light of Morning
Poetry
hush —
don’t say a word
(not while shadows linger and —
ah —
the bliss of being known
straddles the idea
of being corrupted)
you sign away your kisses
as if they are only pawns
in a game you love to play
your fingertips trail
down the expanse of skin,
through the valleys
and the flat plains,
searching for something
that means more than gold
all secrets will be exposed
in due time, in due time,
but do we ever really know
if our truth is being heard?
listening to you all day
while coaxing out
your excitement at night —
what better play is there?
we tell ourselves we’ll be
better lovers,
better friends,
better sisters and brothers,
better mothers and fathers —
but in our private rooms
we fashion ourselves different masks,
the better to pretend at what we’re not
