Holding his phone
Quietly.
So that he doesn’t wake.
Putting in a password
He was confident of giving:
Our kid’s identity.
I feed it in, hidden in the dark.
I steal through the apps.
I leaf through the gallery,
Like an album of old.
I see what I expected.
I see conversations
I used to dream of,
Fantasies I wanted but
Never could be a part of.
I read, willing,
Yet unwilling, and I Am
Ashamed,
Because I am aroused.
Torn,
Because I never wanted to be
A wounded, resilient, proud, foolish, turned on
Thief.
Hearts Still Care 