"Honesty."
All night we lock our doors, the hard sad mouths.
We stalk naked, bedroom
to bathroom, shining like scissors,
like silver, like crosses.
When we lie down tell me what slips between us,
self-conscious.
We sleep in a coffin, in satin; a wedding.
Waiting for morning.
Look how we look away, revelations
that can almost touch.
Are we the honesties?
We are.
Stars that blink in our nightclothes,
like slow-turning planets filled with other lives.