I cannot tell these lies
no more
no more
pretending my voice
carry clout
White seagulls
disturbs the blue sky
above
at rainbows end
an empty coffer
awaits
Madame,
S’il vous plaît
share this thin ice
with me
the water’s cold
beneath the surfaces
of old
no hellish fires
can melt them
down
no matter how many
lies
are
told
