Our Secret Can Kill Us.

i know that you know
and i know that you know that i know

but we agreed on one thing after that night and following morning
no one's talking
we keep the dignity of silence,
the sorrow of more silence,
the sweetness of
nothing
at all

what's the use of telling you about what you know that i know?

will it serve the purpose of telling us
that there is something wrong
and that it should be stopped
or at least mentioned and
discussed and then corrected?

dare me.
you know what happens next.

i'll die.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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