Secret

Do you remember when I held a secret in my hand? How I cradled it in my palm and marveled at its luster, at the Jupiter-swirls that churned on its surface…

You remember. I'm sure you do.

I handed it to you, you recall, and you ran your thumb over its smoothness, cooing at the sensation of what we hadn't conceived. And then we set it back in the plastic box we'd found it in and left the store.

Do you remember?

I'll never forget, for now my palm craves the perfection of that secret, nestled in the warmth of my hand. My mind aches for the worlds hidden in those red-purple swirls.

Now it's gone… and I can't even remember what the secret was.