Shared Secrets

Everyone arrived with their dishes,

a tapestry of flavors,

but who’s keeping score

of the stories tucked inside?

Each lid lifted

a reveal of laughter,

steam curling like half-told truths,

the table a mosaic

of mismatched plates,

cracking smiles,

voices dancing around the casserole.

We left with full bellies,

but untouched tales,

as if the meal itself

was more than the food,

a silent potluck of longing,

tangled in the air,

like overcooked pasta spilling

into the gaps where words should be.