The Secret

 Two girls discover
the secret of life
in a sudden line of
poetry.


I who don't know the
secret wrote
the line.
 They
told me

(through a third person)
they had found it
but not what it was
not even

what line it was.
 No doubt
by now, more than a week
later, they have forgotten
the secret,

the line, the name of
the poem.
 I love them
for finding what
I can't find,

and for loving me
for the line I wrote,
and for forgetting it
so that

a thousand times, till death
finds them, they may
discover it again, in other
lines

in other
happenings.
 And for
wanting to know it,
for

assuming there is
such a secret, yes,
for that
most of all.

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