The Truth
NOW is the time to hold off and delay,
Reply softly, gesture vaguely, make light:
“Oh, I can’t tell, not sure at all,” I’ll say;
It is of no moment, nothing, a slight
Impulse, lost in the endless parade of
idle dreams and instants we long regret.
Now is the time to push away, shove
Aside the sight of form and silhouette -
A time to twist and turn about, deny
Passion, dampen desire, ignore the plea
Whispered plaintively, “was it all a lie?”
Hope for the tears to end, hope to be free
Of what we thought, the bulwark of our youth
That we would speak, and what we spoke was truth.
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