Between Us

My secret lies between us, like a corner,

a pointed edge pressing against the ribs.

We keep our distance in the warmth of summer,

legs and arms jut outside the covers.

The corner multiplies into a plated spine, begins

to twist. I keep it on my side, away from her.

With autumn, her coolness finds its way

against me, spooning for heat.

Forgetting in our sleep, we wake in each other’s

arms, the closeness of hands and mouths.

The secret hangs on the cliff

of our marriage like a Komodo dragon.

Camouflaged against black rock,

it rises up and over the edge –

swinging drool, razor teeth.

Still, the bone chill of winter drives us closer.