I.
Who am I
to point out the blackness of truth? When I
have lied
in the darkness
with no proper responses
to an amorously awkward caress,
except the expected moan.
II.
At 19, he unknowingly initiated me
into the lair of liars. He grunted and I strained
a smile
behind my teeth hid the fear
of what the unspoken truth, meant.
III.
I have spent three years living
nothing, but my truth
and sometimes I’m the actress, still
putting on the pantomime
in the dark
I am laying and with a sigh, I lie.
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