The things learned beside the pillow of a lover,
Secrets told and then made obsolete when relationship ends.
Facts about a dangerous past,
An abusive one,
About mistakes made,
What to do with such truths when the connection is irrelevant?
What becomes them?
Do they live on,
Like ghosts that whisper in our ears?
Do we convey them to others,
Polluting the confidence with which they were shared?
Do these secrets wither and die,
Given insufficient energy outside the intimacy of their creation?
In those moments with those lovers,
I tried my best to make my ear a spiritual one,
A benevolent intention that would help heal the pain and hardship they unveiled.
Even if I can no longer be there physically,
I hope that that intention works as a ghost of its own,
A kind-hearted one that lives in my absence,
Helping to resolve that which was whispered so generously.