Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Between the lines

I read between the lines,
the expression on her face didn't match
the well chosen words.
The chair felt hot on the seat of my jeans
but my thighs were cold from melting snow.
we ordered wine and I wanted to empty
my glass quickly.
I know the truth when I hear it
whether the words are my own
or someone else's.
I can detect lies instantly by the
tenor of the human voice, the 
shake in the handwriting, which
way the words slant.
the glass was empty,
I picked up my bag and

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