Secrets of the Golden Chest...

"Secrets,

I bring them in a little golden trunk

Well kept

Lest they be proclaimed

Lest my adulterers be adulterers.

In pronouncing them

Do not let my eyes rush

To publish them

Secrets,

I know them whole

As obsolete as the bell

What do I see in prison?

It is in the brilliant ink that flows from the pen

What a haul on the white leaf

In an uncertain dose

Remains of my secrets

I move and shake the golden chest

In the salivating expectation that they awaken

And with a desire to fly intensified

Acquire wings and, flying, disintegrate

Or, go out through the half-open door

Follow life (or what is left of it)

Maybe, transfigured into colorful butterflies, That fly without strings.."

Done