What is meant to be a parting
Reminds me how you taste.
At terrible risk, in terrible haste
We kiss, again.

I walk away from you—
‘never look back’
the story says—
My eyes turning to salt.

The street receives me,
Swallows me up,
Another citizen—
Who might know me here?

I watch the faces of the watchers.
No one acknowledges
What they may have seen.
It could be years

Before we learn
If we have been discovered,
Before they come for us,
With our worst fears in a cage.