Secrets Poem by Mathew Lewis

As we sit in this supposed silence
Sipping on secrets that are never said,
I wake, flutter eyelids, flex muscles,
And silently lift my head,
Work a jaw line so long unused,
Quiver breath phrases awakened from death,
Assume a pose that communicates passion;
Then pretend I had it all in my head.
We eye the other in naked respect
And hope that love is all the same.
I sip on my secret and cherish it,
I let its heady mix conquer my brain.
I follow conspiracy round to the door mat,
And then, hesitantly, slip silently in,
Strike a straight line right up to the fire,
Where my secret claims to begin,
And where, unsurprisingly, I find
Your secret has already been.
There’s a tell-tale trail of slipperiness,
Where the hints of a clue were let in.
And so now cast in the amber warm glow
Your secret and mine play their parts.
In turns they tell of their sights and their sounds,
And the games they have played on our hearts.
They go on for hours into the night,
While the world obliviously turns,
By daybreak our secrets are so tight
That there is nothing new left to learn.
So with the sun slowly rising,
Our secrets calmly depart.
My secret returns to me,
So I can sip it from its glass.