some hide smiles
some hide eyes
many tiny invisible lies
some hide smiles
some hide eyes
many tiny invisible lies
To lie beside me you lied.
I lay. You lay beside me.
Tut mir leid, Schãtzli, you said.
Es tut mir leid.
She said if she were a food, she would be a red raw steak.
She said if she were a drink, she would be red wine so we could age together.
I said I was a vegetarian teetotaller.
Then, just quickly enough, I said I was only joking.
You said let’s give each other presents on Sunday. It’s our one-month anniversary.
You gave me cufflinks in a velvet box, I gave you a meat pie in a greasy bag and then had to pretend it was a joke and your real present was at home and I was saving it for our 33-day anniversary because that was my lucky number.
That was the second time I lied to you but I only did it for good reasons. I knew I was not good enough for you no matter what you said.
The third time I lied to you was when I said it was fine you were leaving and that you had to do what was best for you and everything would be ok. Then I didn’t have another chance to lie to you.
We can lie together
and tell each other the truth