Truth

I hesitate on the cusp
of your newly liberated lips

listening as you mumble some delicacies served from a long
forgotten meal of pastiche.

I remind you how a white lie is still a subtle
shade of purgatory.
Truth matters; even when it’s clattering around
like some resonating ricochet mislaid inside its freedom.

 

Poppy October 26th 2014 ~xx~

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