better left said

The things I want to know:
the small scar on your right-hand stomach,
how you got your name, why you hate where you grew up, the
six-year-old wearing the homemade robot costume, why
nothing makes you happier
than a plane to anywhere else, why
your heart swells and
your face beams
when you think about the future.

The things I don't want to know:
The stars on the side of your letters,
the number of months that passed before
my name crept into your black book of secrets,
the abilities that I don't have, that I can't
replace, that you can't forget, the
sketches of skeleton leaves lining your walls, and
the photo
on the bottomside of your shelf,
and the rest of the hidden places
where you still stare into the faces of the past,

all of the angles from which
you will never look at me.