Secret

Maybe I am a pair of mismatched socks.

Black on one side,

solid and sturdy and boring and basic,

but good for formal occasions,

and colorful upon the other foot,

with quirky graphics of little dogs,

or coffee cups,

or cheerful yellow birds.

◑

It is tricky, you see,

being a pair of mismatched socks.

My left foot is too plain,

and my right foot is too loud,

and so the only solution

is to always wear pants

to hide my uncoordinated tendencies.

◑

But sometimes it is hot,

and I would like to wear shorts,

or sometimes I visit someone,

and they say to kick off my shoes,

as though it is the easiest thing in all the world.

◑

But if I reveal that I am a pair

of mismatched socks,

what will they think of me?

Will they wish I had only worn black?

Will they wonder where the other half

of my color has gone?

Will they think me lazy,

or careless,

or childish for refusing to wear

socks designed

to be worn together?

◑

I am a pair of mismatched socks,

and no one

must ever know.