Inland

You wish
you had a secret
to keep, enshrined
deep in some hollow
in your chest, close
-held meaning,
something you want
to protect. What
kind of map leads
nowhere? You drove
into L.A. once,
piercing the valleys
between stone hills
that felt like pyramids
rising to consecrate
something significant
that wasn’t you. 
It was relief to find
yourself circling
the city itself, as if
ditching your car
and trekking miles
to the airport
was easier to bear
than all this being
witnessed.