pushing

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.