Secrecy by Margaret Atwood
Secrecy flows through you,
a different kind of blood.
It's as if you've eaten it
like a bad candy,
taken it into your mouth,
let it melt sweetly on your tongue,
then allowed it to slide down your throat
like the reverse of uttering,
a word dissolved
into its glottals and sibilants,
a slow intake of breath --
And now it's in you, secrecy.
Ancient and vicious, luscious
as dark velvet.
It blooms in you,
a poppy made of ink.
You can think of nothing else.
Once you have it, you want more.
What power it give's you!
Power of knowing without being known,
power of the stone door,
power of the iron veil,
power of the crushed fingers,
power of the drowned bones
crying out from the bottom of the well.
"My inspiration for the piece came as I was thinking about secrets and how they are so hard to keep; no matter how well hidden we may think they are, or how well-guarded we believe them to be, there is always a bit showing here and there around the edges. I was thinking of esoteric knowledge, such as magical grimoire (spell book), and how these two ideas are related" - Sharmon Davidson
"All the secrets of the world are contained in books. Read at your own risk." - Lemony Snicket
