"Undisclosed "
Loss is not easy,
like a library burned
before all the books are read.
Whether lover, friend,
or some combination of the two,
it matters not the end
nor the circumstance.
Loss always exceeds expectations,
never occurs at a convenient time.
I wonder where shared secrets go?
Do they float as hydrocarbons,
to ravage the ozone?
Do they return to destroy
our last shred of sanity,
increase the size
of the gash in our hearts?
Just because we do not commit
our words to paper
does not mean they are not real.
Let no man say I did not love you.
I loved you then; I love you now.
I bury your secrets, burn the map.
© 2003 Dane Hebert
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