[for what it’s worth…]

for what it’s worth, i tried to limit my lying to you
to about twice a day and never before we were
to eat dinner together. nice tie, i said,
fingers crossed behind my back, so it wouldn’t
count. you said something gracious about my
dress and we sat, opening the bottle of wine
i love red wine, i said, corkscrew in my fist.
i snuck a cigarette out back, then sprayed myself
with the perfume of lust so you wouldn’t notice
the stench of vice. but sometimes i underestimated.
when you said you liked my mother’s lasagna,
i traded it with silence about the shirt you wore
to my sister’s wedding. when you asked me
did you? i kissed you a maybe but it was always
a let-down. but i never lied with my hands.
or when i had my lips against your skin, ghost
murmurs against tattoos blue, green, on the heels
of empty breath. i lied to you about the color
of your eyes and you almost, almost believed me.



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