The Old Familiar

My secrets have been unearthed;
my plans, long ago told.

I am no longer a land of surprises,
a vivid or virginal Galápagos.

Between what I’ve revealed
and what you’ve discovered,

all veins have been exposed,
mined of fertility and invention.

I have lost any sense of mystery.
Even our memories have blended:

the distant names of my past
no longer are your strangers;

my trials and triumphs as familiar
as the bumps and curves of your feet.

I imagine us creaking in rockers,
finishing off each other’s thoughts,

the only voice of our waning years,
the comforting silence of tongues.