Day 7 – truth

The truth

she says

is like a whiplash

it stripes your skin

red white

it is that brief burn

like shame

across the cheek


the truth

she says

is like a disease

lies cannot cure

nor stop its onslaught

in the turbulence

of the mind


the truth

she says

is that we are not all equal

and we cannot all succeed

like the sestina cannot turn forever


she espouses

such things

on the morning bus

while seated

at my elbow

the early sun

bright behind her ears


and she smiles

when she lies

but today

she doesn’t smile