I’ve laid down in a dozen beds
Felt arms around me
Rested my head
Lied down and been lied to
Tied up and skinned alive
Had my heart eaten by masters and dilettantes alike
I could bury my head
In the hair on your chest
Lie in your arms
Look for truth
but I’d never find it
not there
the physical is fickle
it rises and falls
ebbs and flows
pushes in and out
rises and swells
before it lets go
a torrent of lies.
