Forked Tongue Twists

by J. P. Davies

(A kiss may not be the truth, but it is what we wish were true. – Steve Martin)

Please, lie to me
and tell me what I long to hear.
The words of sweet remembrance
of a love unparalleled in truth
and fantastical conclusions.

Lost in the world of furors,
that loving you, placed before
my welling rheumy eyes.
A brush of slight, that steps
to the edge of fantasy and reality.

Slide your lips horizontally
along mine, and pretend it's
what you really mean.
The cold caress of your
soft divinities are enough
to make me wonder, if you still care.

I believe in my heart what you
tell me is true, as your forked
tongue twists and beguiles it's way
across my teeth. I’m floundering in time.
The truth is not that I don't love you.
But that your love is a thing that runs,
and flows, rhythmically in and out of
my existence. So pristine in pattern
and derogative in desire, that it
drenches my heart in the
sweet-smelling fragrance of life.

Swept beyond boundaries of opulence
to the very peaks of disaster.
Your kisses are the fraudulent summation
of all the hopes and desires in my heart.

And so, I believe in the silent vernacular
of a thousand cavorts and flirtations.
Weaving a spell of deception, in which I
shall drown and submit for eternity.
I’m lost beyond recall,
in my own rhetorical flame.


Author's Note: Another attempt at a different theme for the Teen Patron contest...

Posted on 01/05/2004
Copyright © 2022 J. P. Davies

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