You couldn’t say the truth out loud

But I’m the type who loves to peek at carefully wrapped presents,

crispy hand-written letters,

yes, wheedle every secret out

so if I can’t take it from your lips

then trust me to search

somewhere else…


You have no idea how resourceful

and stubborn I can be.


On your neck?

— I see a vibration of pulses: too vague

On your jaw?

— my fingers attempt caresses: too tense

Where is your truth?

Ah, I know:

my growing impatience is part

of your little game.

I scan your face only to find no

sign of frustration. Tsk

Where is it?

Your lips spread a grim line

— your reply,

I sigh.



well, you have an expanse of interesting landscapes

and I’m not the type to shy

from tracing each bait in the dark,

I sank


somewhere, I think

I heard a shudder,

air sucked to

bring back air to your lungs.

then I found it,


I heard it sing





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