Open Secrets
By Gwendolyn MacEwen
Because you are beautiful I will have to tell you a number of my secrets. (What does anyone hide anything for except to have it found?)
I have concealed from you too long the fact that space is curved, That I have invented the night the better to see you by, that If I seem upset at times it is because of the way you walk, leaning into the wind.
That most of my secrets are doors that open onto other secrets – (Vistas of fields and beaches and columns stretching on forever),
That even those words are secrets with turquoise doors in them, Opening out to one side or the other, letting you glimpse for two seconds Herds of speaking horses, temples full of starfish, clandestine moons,
And as you walk, leaning into the wind, into the terrible landscape of your own beauty, These secrets are my gifts to you, these signs that lead you to my door.
