The house is on fire
because the room has seen too much,
the walls have ears and they remember
secrets that do not exist,
that cannot exist,
beyond their very bounds—
our secrets, our secret,
the one that looks
both ways before crossing the door,
the one that counts
seconds, minutes, hours
before the other person can leave,
the one that tastes to bitterly
of the ashes of us.
© ash_loner🌸