Ask no questions,Lauren Kizi-Ann Alleyne
Love, the door inside me is locked and the bones are begging to be let loose with their drums and handbells, with their tales of the sea at sunrise. I confess to the carrying of secrets. I confess to bearing songs not meant for your tongue. Some longings are too heavy to move; others, too spiked to cling to. Leave the unused to their dusty sleep— after all, I have learned to live well enough without them. Let me wring my occasional tears, and stare from time to time into corners in which you see no incense. Let me unbury my gods in secret and rebind to them my prayers, my necessary guilt. Let me believe my happiness complete: this body with your name on its gate, this deaf heart that burns and shines and keeps on turning the key.
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