Sun Lies

Alone in the dark
The truth comes out
In a storyboard of whispers.
Secrets and tears
Downpour and drench.
The lies that we mold ourselves into
Fall down around us,
Remaking themselves
With the rising of the sun.

Arts and Privilege

I am not a lady
Though I know the art,
The delicate waiting
That is required.

But demure smiles were never honest enough
For my peasant mouth.

I was born free of locks and the rules
Propriety brings to rein in our desires.

I was born
Free of respectability
Free of notoriety
Free of wealth
Free of worth.

Though I know the art,
The sophisticated lying
That is required,
I am not a lady.

Turpentine

Consolation in a bottle
In a jar of turpentine.
Rain can't wash away
The weeks
The months
That you were mine.

The pools of brown blend into black
Bleed through the canvas back.
I take another sip to wash you down.

I dip my fingertip into
Yellow and I can feel the sun
Heating on my black.
Sweat mixing with the desperation in my laugh.
How many years ago was it today?

I drown you out
with a jar of turpentine
I drink you down with a bottle,
If rain can't wash away
The weeks
The months
That you were mine.