She keeps smiling

Nobody believed her

but she insisted smiling

and saying there was no

secret.

“What's your secret?”

was not the right question

to ask, since if

there were one it

couldn't, obviously,

be revealed.

Or, it'd no longer be a

secret.

And she had one. Much

certainly.

At least one. A good,

audacious, hot one.

A red, passionate secret
that kept her

young, joyful,

wise like a witch,

brilliant like a goddess.

She lived for it.

And she kept smiling

and saying there was no

secret.

She died 

for that secret.

And she never
told us what it was.

But you and I -

we know,

She still has a

secret.

Yes, she's a secret.
And she keeps smiling. 

Rosangela Taylor