*Image found HERE
Tell me Lies
Do not tell me of the Sun’s exigent duality,
my teeth are predatory, full of cavities and flesh,
this breathing thing we do, a mere technicality,
the Moon is in my eyes and sky ‘s my only creche.
Do not tell me of the flower’s pungent mortality,
of wishes torn, tear-christened and undressed,
your words would be futile, I’m at war with sobriety
and a nimbus ticks away, here inside my chest.
Mute your lips, my dearest, and let the Autumn reign,
my temple here is golden, tho crumbling with the years,
no need for any words, I’ m familiar with pain
cruel wisdoms on this tongue are quickly stirred and seared.
Tell instead of dreams that hither while I’m on the bus
and how without their lonesome note there wouldn’t be no us.
*Wrote this for Tim’s Sonnet Workshop, check it out…
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