if i could keep you hidden away in the cupboards
under the shade, under the covers
away from the touching, the stares
from the propaganda,
canned or pickled, whatever to preserve
the essence of the moment, your soul
bottled up for my convenience,
ready to pour out only when
the sun has gone and everything is quiet
uninterrupted by rats or roaches
perfectly maintained and potent
untouched
kept entirely to myself
i would