Even as children we were more exposed,
less beautiful at night. You remember
what it was like, there, hidden under thin blankets
in the summer when we wanted to sleep naked
or float on rafts in your pool.
Yes, yes, we were different than our parents
who needed to talk through those nights,
every night, red wine in tumblers
or coffee mugs. We were not allowed to listen.
Why were we always alone?
I knew not to ask.
After dinner we sat damp from the shower,
our hair wrapped in towels, listening.
I still don’t know what you thought about–
Even back then we understood something
about the nature of silence.