White Lies

A farce,
you called it;
Yet that glimpse of silence said it all,
in another cachinnation;

Could you not sweep past those dreadlocks?
Or were those morsels of ethanol not clear enough
-to reflect your lies;

...maybe it was just the smoke,
that hid away those precious inklings
- missing jigsaw pieces
of perfection.

Or is it alcohol's secret?
The heartstrings of it's perfume.
neatly coiled and ribknit
to plan another deception....

I don't know.

So I 'll sit by this window and crawl through another chasm,
cleaning those bloodied wounds with whiskey,
-your midnight regrets
and mine.

...maybe it's just water we need,
to show us the truth;

Yet I'd trade it,
for another drop of that ethylic lie.