Sharing secrets

I am in front of your building

Which is public knowledge to

1. That bachelorette party drunk-ing 

down the sidewalk

2. Your neighbor unlocking, and 

3. The door itself

and simultaneously, 

a shameful secret. I picture God

surveying Earth—on thousands of 

1980s box televisions for some reason—

staring at the overhead view of me

in front of your building, just shaking

his head. I look up with bent elbows, 

like, “Aren’t you in charge here?”

This wasn’t the plan a few months ago, 

but you are sorry and regretful and

trying this new thing you saw in

a three-part series called “Embracing Empathy” 

and I walk upstairs. Don’t look at me like that. 

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