everything/and/nothing
/
The door closes, and they are everything.
They are passion. They are love. They are kisses and wrinkled sheets and hot breath and loud moans.
They are each other's.
/
They door closes, and they are nothing.
Titles are gone. Sense is gone. The secrets are gone.
/
The door opens, and they are nothing.
They are not passion, or love or kisses and wrinkled sheets.
They are not each other's.
/
The door opens, and they are everything.
They are blood relatives. They pretend they have sense. Their secrets are covered with little white lies.
/
They're going to miss those little white lies. The secrets. The passion. The way she moaned while he kissed her. The way his name was like sin on her lips.
The door was flung open, and they are nothing.