She broke the news, I was surprised.
I didn’t feel betrayed, but detached,
as if I were staring at her through a glass wall.
I should have known that with each passing second
secrets are formed, locked, and buried
only to surface like corpses washed ashore.
It was a happy occasion but I was morose,
I had to grudgingly admit that
One could never really know a person,
And that everything I didn’t know
And would never know would only grow
like weeds amidst pasture.