Trading Secrets

I had some secrets— dreadful woes! 

You said that, yours? No one else knows. 

My secrets ate away at me 

And yours were starting to grow teeth 

So you suggested that we swap, 

Lest surely, soon, our hearts would stop. 

After a moment, I agreed; 

We spit, then shook, with startling speed. 

I bid my secrets all goodbye 

And slept, relieved, with one soft sigh. 

- - - 

I shipped you mine through posted mail; 

You told me yours had learnt to sail. 

I laughed to think how they’d arrive: 

Windswept, salty, and sleep deprived.

I thought that I should let them sleep;

No need to stir their restful heap. 

And I suppose she’d done the same 

When my sad, jostled parcel came. 

My secrets mean nothing to her; 

She can’t recall what hers once were. 

As they collect dust behind strange new doors,

Nor she, nor I, have secrets anymore.