i
We are hard on each other
and call it honesty,
choosing our jagged truths
with care and aiming them across
the neutral table.
The things we say are
true; it is our crooked
aims, our choices
turn them criminal.
ii
Of course your lies
are more amusing:
you make them new each time.
Your truths, painful and boring
repeat themselves over & over
perhaps because you own
so few of them
iii
A truth should exist,
it should not be used
like this. If I love you
is that a fact or a weapon?
iv
Does the body lie
moving like this, are these
touches, hair, wet
soft marble my tongue runs over
lies you are telling me?
Your body is not a word,
it does not lie or
speak truth either.
It is only
here or not here.
Nincsenek megjegyzések:
Megjegyzés küldése