YOUR ILLUSTRIOUS PAST

Please don’t tell me the details
of your days on the streets
and the things you sometimes did
to find something to eat
or drink
or stick inside you
to feel all right.
Spare me
those details;
keep it quiet.

I accept
that everything
that led you
to become the one
to share my room
is sacred and beautiful
and I would change nothing about
those thousands of decisions
but that doesn’t mean
I want to know them.

Let me maintain some illusions
about your illustrious past.
Please,
or I’ll have to share
my sordid history with bananas.