The Secret Keepers
I don't want
to be like them,
the secret keepers,
the dwellers
in turmoil, the
sedated ones,
inebriated ones,
burned alive in
the fires of
their addictions,
the dissociated ones
who've had a great fall,
and never put themselves
back together again.
At times they
arise, as had the
king of Babylon,
Nebuchadnezzar,
from grazing in
the wild fields
of their minds,
from crawling on
all fours, faces
covered with dew.
They rise up, returning
from long absence,
joining the living again,
feeling alive again,
seeing their bodies again,
combing their hair again,
looking once more
like women
...women returning
from beasthood.
But, I don't want to
be like them, the
secret keepers, the
story holders, the
silence bearers.
I don't want to
be like them
...again.
.
