Waiting for

Laced with sun-dried tears

And a scalding message from the moon

The secret of you

Lies dormant.

I will use man-made claws

And the spine of a bear

To pry the untold story's end

With eyes closed.

The secret must be saved

But never revealed

Unless I can remember

Where my own secret wound up.

Mine once wandered like an avalanche

And it slipped through a crack

It made for itself

The sweater it wore in July.

Yours smells like pine

And the child aching to escape me

Is begging for a tiny handful

Of its light.

I have a dangerous but exciting suspicion

That looking into the secret of you

Will see it wringing itself of sweat

That its scent will be adolescently familiar.