...of disclosure

Was poetry always there between us?

With him, I started writing my short poems once again, and it became an opening ritual for each of our encounters. He'd ask me about my words. In silence, I would offer him the poem and he would read as though discovering the dark side I concealed with frivolity and laughter. He would discover things that I didn't dare reveal even to myself. In silence, he would fold the paper carefully and put it in his pocket.

[The Proof of the Honey, Al Neimi, S.]