The Inner World

The outer world
Sees but one part of us.
We go about our daily lives,
Intent on our work, our families,
Other people, other relationships.
None of them know the hidden side:
The life we share in

The inner world; Secret, intimate, timeless. We stare happily, nose to nose, Sharing the looks that lovers share, Never willing to spend the precious time To think of the others waiting outside. Pressing together our bodies, our minds; Now like adults, tired and lonely, Now like lovers, in hungry desire, Now like children in a hidden place, that no one else knows, too small for grownups, just room for us two, breathless, excited, stifling giggles with both hands, afraid to make a sound, lest someone hear us, and look inside, and call us out, and change forever our secret place, and make us crawl out, shame-faced, back to

The outer world. To pay the price for our secret stolen hours: To go on living, working, talking, smiling, and to know with a hollow, empty, certainty that we might crawl again through the forbidden door, but we could never, ever, find that sunlit inner world again. copyright 1984 by Brian K. Crawford