In My Room

Be quiet walls, and don't tell my secrets,
Don't tell them that I disobey commands,
That I cry some nights for nearly no reason at all.
But tell them, rather, about how the sun strikes me as beautiful,
When it flows through your windows in the morning,
And how your blank grey color comforts me.
Don't point out that I never dust but
I let the wind do it for me on cool days.
And please don't count for them the number
Of people I've sneaked in and how many times you've seen
Bare flesh.