Now

Now

don’t believe in
love, now, i see through
that sugary skin, i
rip at it with teeth and
sharpened nails, recoil from
the rotting flesh of
desperation, of need.

now i will not cover lies with
lies, will not stitch up
that delusion with
this dull needle, i will not

believe in love, not
now, not as anything
as an orchestration,
a well-choreographed deception,
by animals,
wild and mostly
untamed things,
who are smart enough,
now, to
fool themselves:

dancing in pairs, figurines
on a chipped music
box machine, circling there,
waiting for the tin notes to stop.

6.10.11