Lies and Other Truths

Your lies float in the air
stretch, expand.
A black cloud, it spills secrets
if I ask nicely.

You say I'm delusional.
wave a long wand,
strap on a dark cape.
A magician, with an
audience of one, but

her legs hang
from your cloud, dear,
despite all of your trickery.
Tanned legs.
Slut-red toenails, with
black sling pumps dangling, 
your head hid
in her spread thighs.

I run to where Dali
waits on my mantelpiece.
He tells stories of days
before time melted
and bent out of shape,
days when I still
thought you were my Candyman;
tongue not yet forked.
illusions intact.

Pris Campbell
 ©:2005

Art: Moving Water by Kimpt


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