Our Secret
by Odin Roark

Strange bedfellow, you, Mr. Reality,
always pulling on my sheets,
nudging,
prying
so matter-of-fact obvious.

But…

Well…

Admittedly, yours is a unique
kind of mission, a galactic nomad,
doing what you do,
revealing what you will,
being what you are.

So…

You’re appreciated, old friend.
After all, who wants to stay in the dark, right?

By the way, I was aware earlier this morning,
getting on your knees, next to my bed, all dressed up
in Sunday go-to-meetin’ guise,
helping a pair of my socks
slip their way on my feet.

In case you didn’t know it,
Nurse Ingrid appreciates you too, ‘cause—uh oh,
she’s got my fantasy cup-a-pills comin’…

Don't go away. Won't be long.