our houses actually without fences too

once i asked her to post her poems
for us to read

she refused. They're very personal to her.
Only she reads it for herself not even her lover who junked her
years back
she trusts no one now
except her poetry

she speaks all her truths
and she is like baring her nakedness
and it will be to her
a shameful act

and so what about us? have we become shameless
naked and daring
and becoming too vulnerable
in our exposed weaknesses?

oh i remember mama
she knows the truth but to put all these naked truths
bearable
she only talks about the bees and the flowers
the turtle and the monkey
the mountain and the squirrel
the beauty and the beast
and the emperor's new clothes

that is how we should do it.
subtle, and what seems to be too private
actually is
universal.

we see other landscapes which we have not really gone to
we have not stepped upon them
we talk about the islands and the sea that separate us
sooner, we know, there are no more barriers
our truths are without boundaries
our houses actually without fences too