keep close

In a lot of ways, you feel like a secret
I keep from the world. Not deliberately so,
just that they can't see. I'd keep you however
is necessary, though, long as you keep me.
And whenever I hear from you, I smile
and feel a thrill. It's a bit childish,
like a secret club with decoder rings.
We make secret pacts and plans and wish
for events that may never come,
'cause we know some will.

We take turns holding tin cans to our ears,
and speaking through vibrating strings.
Sometimes when we talk, I slip out in the dark
as you blink in the clear morning sun where you are,
and we speak of such things as would curdle the toes
of ghosts and let angels cluck their tongues
as they crowd in close - is it just me, though?

It feels like a lovely conspiracy, everything
we share every time we do, like a secret
the whole world knows it's supposed
to be keeping from me.

And of course, from you.