at least I'll be honest about my lying:
I hide poems from you.
I tuck them away like buzzing phones during sex
push them back in, like garbage pressing from inside a bulging closet
bulging like my my cheeks while trying to wrap these appetent words in my tongue
shrugging like "[i 'unno]" with mouth and eyes full
of things I just can't let stream out
lest they damper our fine run
lest they make this tightrope too slippery
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