He was a handsome older man. Well dressed, smelled fantastic. Wore a smile that was remarkably disingenuous, but comforting nonetheless.
I let him buy me a drink, and we stared out across the water. A water taxi passed us by, the last trip of the evening, its festive(more) yellow lights distorted in the inky black waters of the bay. He asked me where I was from, but I could tell that he was only being polite.
I gave him what he needed to weave his story into the small talk, and he ordered me another Cuba Libre.
I watched him transform on bayside, from a small old man with impeccable taste, to a lean and eager 20 year old musician. I learned his name and his business and we laughed while others came and went.
The little tiki hut bar flashed its lights for last call and he slid down from his stool. Pulling out his wallet in the least gracious gesture I had seen him make that night.
"Viejo, Where are you going? Let me call you a cab." I offered.
"No need, Mija. I'm going where the secrets go. Besides, there are no cabs in Miami." He ambled away and I polished off my drink. (less)
There is a frog living in the back of my head. I don’t know how it got there or when, but I know that it lives there. It’s where the secrets go. The frog lives off of my brain, it’s always slurping and sucking and quacking in there.
I’ll go into a room and I’ll feel the frog twitch, and then I won’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing. Then I start wondering, and all the frog says is “Secret!”. I’ll go for a walk, I’ll phone someone, I’ll start a project – “Secret! Secret! Secret!”. I’ll say “I love you, my darling girl” and stroke her cheek with my thumb, but then the frog quacks, and then I wonder to myself: who is this woman? What is her name? Do I know her? But all the frog whispers back is “That’s my secret now”.
The frog sucks and slurps at my brain, turning everything into secrets. I can feel it growing bigger in there, all wet and slimy. Soon it’ll be bigger than my brain. Soon it’ll take over. Maybe. I don’t know, but I wonder. You see, it’s a secret.
Secrets hidden up your sleeves
But this is anything but magic
Killing the pain with stitches and gauze
Whispering to your reflection that it's under control
While you put on a show for the whole world to see
But, darling, let me tell you that you are not Houdini(more) You do not have to tackle great feats to win our love
You are not an escape artist
So, please, let us help you out of those bonds
Show us where you hid the key
I promise the world won't come undone
If you just tell us your secrets