Image by Zach Vessels

Aren't we both fools,
sifting for truth in rivers of fantasy?
Wanting but never embracing,
waiting but never forthcoming,
lips stubbornly silent
yet rhymes evermore proclaiming.
As if denying what’s what
would expedite respite from this pain.
So I’ll weave a fib and if you’ll promise
to believe my myth,
to it I’ll affix another spin.
And together we'll keep hating 
our cruel impersonations
so deliberately conceived,
on and on riding
this counterfeit carousel.
Till there is left nothing of me anymore to give,
having gone to bed with your last thought
morphing into uneven dreams
Waking up like we have lived together lifetimes,
I'll lay the blame on your doorstep, still,
vociferously declaring that the truth is
this 'we' was never there to begin with.
And you, as usual, will cut my heart
into million pieces with your treacherous ink.
Until, tired, battered and, through with us,
Love will be done.
Here is hoping that our lies will exorcize
this wretched demon...


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