you said little lies are the kinds of things you can't afford.

i was thinking about you last night
while i was painting a bicycle
on stretched canvas
with the blood still caked on my knee
hardened in a trickle.

it's funny how you can walk the same road
so many times and never remember exactly
where it ends.

well, i never meant to lie to you.
i told you i wasn't looking for anything
you had to uncover.

i want the sort of truth that brims on lips
and disrobes on command,

not the sort of words only voiced to shock
or provoke.

you look at me like i have some open vat
of answers just stirring in a brew
and that i'd be able to give you the sort
of hope we both know don't exist.

men will always be men,
so stop apologizing.


i dreamt that you were
drawing on my veins and
taking blood like wine.

everyone here knows your skin so well
it just wouldn't be right to tame you.

03/12/2007

Posted on 03/12/2007
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