Into Our Hideout
Sometimes I wonder?
Do the others that bleed our hearts red-
or lust your heart orange-
can they see a small window into our world
do you think?
Are they catching on,
can they sense a difference
emerging like a wave ebbing high,
or a small autumn whisper through the oaks'
Can they see into our irises a door half shut-
with only a peek......
A most curious slit-
of a world
unknown to them-
this world that is ours,
do they hear our whispers of ink-
of green,
of white blaring screens?
Our silent sound sounding an alarming
nothing-
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