a secret keeps another secret.
i keep a secret. a secret keeps me. nothing is safe. even the rocks have a terrible cycle. from solidity to fire. something must vanish into red clouds of vapor. it reminds me of love. melting underneath and reemerging through fire, as fire. it dries and solidifies. fast or slowly according to the laws of Dynamics. continuous unrest. my first poem was absolutely right: even the sun would cry if she knew the density of my dark room.
the secret i keep and the one keeping me are the same. its meaning is moving on, toward a kind of music.
some strings, tying trees to my eyes, leaves to the mouth, no words.
subtle fingers drawing anxiety on the doors of the body. music.
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