This is how we love.

She couldn't let the world know her.
So she went there, where the sheets weren't cleaned and the pillows cases were dried with stains from other times.
Where she proved that in the dark of the crown moulding, that every seem cracks and sometimes water and other things creep in and leave stains.
High above where we can reach
And that's where tears and truth were safe.
Where orgasms bellowed off of from all the men she wouldn't let know her.
Where her child would weep and laugh and jump.
Where she would be quiet. And sometimes so still.
Where she was raw and human and wildly and abundantly alone, but rarely without company.
Because even when alone, was not always in good company.