i would list your attributes
but my words are tainted, stained by rhythm
from someone else's pockets.
the promises you make to me come false--
the brave new web of lies you spin.
prettily you invite them in,
while i admire your penmanship, your decor
and your tall-spun sugar, as you desire.
or if it merits, you allow
the gracious hand to rule, the rice
sprinkled tomorrow by the gardener, birds descending.
the world is just your wedding
all blinded and frothy in white and
ready to be destroyed by words.
you dye your skin, i pierce your soul
and together we'll prune the awkwardness
out of telling this story
to someone else's children, nephews, grandsons,
assembled at your knee and ready to cry.
wide-eyed i hunt you out
(your invisibility in a crowd is hard to mistake)
and claim the static, harsh and clinging, as an answer.
a half-flag dawn invites the truth
and you open your mouth to sing, and swallow.