I lean tentative, anxious, observed. I summon courage and micro trust. And with an ancient dried voice, dare to speak. To unpierce myselves, unhide the hidden. Carefully selecting just possible words.
Secrets come naked, often at dimished flight.
Frequently in colors, and smells and sounds. Secrets have speech, words splintered together. Words, grown up or shrunk or frozen unheard. Black and grey, under low creeping vines of doubt. Before withdrawing blended, their quick sharing requires attendance.