Duplicity
I see you,
a faint mirage
beneath the polished skin of your smile.
I see you behind those luminous eyes, that swiftly transform into depthless pools of midnight black,
I hear you hidden in the sweet, venomous honey that drips from your tongue.
You are shadow and sun all at once,
a fractured mirror,
With patterns of sharp glass scattered into intricate mosaics,
Alluring to only those who dare not touch.
While others may gaze,
lost in the kaleidoscope of you,
I see past the gleam, past the charm,
into the places where edges cut deep,
where each shard is a glint of something deeply and profoundly broken.
You speak in fluent, thinly veiled cruelty,
Delicately slipping through the air like smoke—
always there, never whole.
The moment I reach for you,
You dissolve,
Leaving my fingers to sift through darkened space.
You know I see you,
and the air between us thrums with mutual understanding.
We trade pleasantries and laughter,
Like two actors trapped on this stage,
Wearing costumes cinched tight as nooses.
We feign an unwritten script,
Never acknowledging the suffocating weight in our silence,
Each pause and hesitation is a chasm we refuse to cross.
You are a skilled predator, adept at sensing threats,
Very aware of my watchful gaze like the electric shivers that race along your skin moments before a lightning strike.
Every move, every word, every thought must be measured and precise.
It’s exhausting, and I know you loathe me for it!
Now fractures are creeping in like a fragile antique wine glass,
thin and brittle under your clenched fist.
Soon, it will shatter,
the shards imploding, cutting deep,
as if the very truth is folded within itself,
waiting to spill out in jagged pieces.
I often wonder how many masks you wear,
how many lie hidden within your rehearsed persona,
the fertile ground where your duplicity flourishes.
As you root yourself in the soil of their trust,
don’t forget to smile,
for beneath every layer of your facade,
behind every grin and all your charm,
I see you.