Not Honesty, not Yet

I would rather we lied to each other some more.
Tell me again I'm the handsomest man among
These, much younger and muscled swains,
And I'll promise to love you until we are dead.
We can say to each other how our lives have
Changed in the month since we've met. It's as if
All our previous burdens were lifted, and now
We are light, and carefree (as we should be,
Since we are lovers). Yes, dear, let us lie,
As such falsehoods bring pleasanter feelings,
By far, than the actual truth can provide.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 18 times
Written on 2012-08-14 at 17:03

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