I believe
every word you say
although
I know you’re lying
in some peculiar
way.
whisper every word
so small
and make ’em sound loud,
it’s getting really late
and I must leave
you see,
rain is about
to fall–
tonight, well,
everything is turning out
swell.
therefore
feel free to lie
and to make it worse
you can even
throw in an occasional
curse
because as you speak
how our love was hot and
on fire
I’m looking at the tower clock
and responding
with no desire:
“look,
midnight has arrived
already, it’s late
and we are still here
getting wet.”
and I ask myself,
concerned
is it possible that
you don’t know-
what we had
disappeared
with no trace?
is it possible that
you don’t know
how our love went
hundreds of times
to hell …?
so don’t hold my hand,
please,
it’s hurting me inside
and even if I say
how grossly blind
my heart still beats
only for you,
don’t fall for it–
I might be lying
too.
©Tom Del Braco
tomislavpoetry 