Mystery

“You are
not always
a mystery,”
he says,
surprised.

And I laugh
even harder
than before.

Does that
please me?
Or am I
offended?

I don’t
really know.
I don’t
really care.

I am confident
in the spot on
his left shoulder

where I can
safely rest
my head for
a little while.

“I wish you
were not always
a mystery,”
I think,
but do not say.

I close my eyes
and decide
that I like it.
~7/5/27

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