The Secret
One day I want you to tell me
about love, and not the kind
that would be called sensible.
I want you to tell me
about wrong, and how standards
applied did not supply
the regret you discovered
on your own.
Tell me then about happiness
and your propensity for lies.
Tell me about the layers of personas
you’ve needed to live your lives.
Then I will tell you the truth:
that there are no secrets
except for holding in
and holding on,
and finding the one
to flail for, then fumble with,
day after each day’s goings-on.
-Shakira Sison
