My eyes are drawn to that drawer.
Each night as she falls to sleep.
I study the beautiful carving of it.
It’s intricate, just like her.
Sitting in the room so proudly.
Yet shrouded with intended mystery.
What she doesn’t want exposed,
Sitting safely in its embrace.
But we both know what’s in it.
And one day a new me will be here.
Sitting on this bed. Looking at that drawer.
And those new eyes will study it.
And the truth will set in for her.
That I’m the one in the drawer now.