November 23, 2008

Keep Out

There was a little garden in a courtyard in a crowded city.
The city wore a wintry sky. The garden was blooming.
What happened there, you want to know, but I won't tell you.
Private. Keep out.
The garden shouldn't have been in bloom.
His hand in mine. What turned inward, what sought to be concealed --
it was possible to see again.

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