Fugitive

Someone may well ask:

What is your secret?
All we are aware of is
The edge the question mark.

What could you say?
My secret is frequently searched for.
Call out our name! Stop hiding from us!
You make me light nervous cigarettes

What we guessed at in the dark of night.
Secrets are keeping secrets from our secrets.
They make a terrible question
dark and searched for like mice:

Our secrets forget themselves momentarily
...Who are you: my lover?
If we could give you a name it would be easier.
It would set a wandering mind at ease.

You keep us forever undercover
As whispers
Whisper our secrets
tell us who we are.