four...

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
aim, 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 loe yo

is that a fact or a weapon?

iv

does the body lie
moving like this, are these
touches, hairs, 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.