Withholding Is What Gives Telling Its Power

From a wonderfully wandering essay by Ange Milko in last month's issue of Poetry, on motherhood, Pinocchio, nature, and much much more, this central truth:

Over the last half-century, poetry and memoir have served the
function of self-expression, and self-expression is justified as a
necessary truth-telling. “Identity” poetry has even claimed the moral
high ground, since truth-telling by the oppressed is an ethical
imperative. But revelation exists in dialogue with secrecy. Withholding
is what gives telling its power. It’s always what gets left out, in
country ballads as well as sophisticated verse, that
wounds the audience into inquiry. The invisible underwrites the
visible; so it is our jobs as poets to gesture to the world’s infinite
potential at the limits of the actual. This is how we express hope and futurity.

In other words: the infinitely pregnant. The indefinitely hidden.

I wonder: Is this why so many blog posts are so short? To keep something hidden, in a medium that calls for the revelation of absolutely everything?