the fidelity of lying

is centered on so many questions,
that in selfish portraiture is hung

in galleries abandoned - corridor of years,
as curtains are drawn tighter against the fading light

till it becomes so hard to see, what one came
to look upon, till all tint of yearning is bled pale;

so we have to vandalize that which we drew against angst,
this is why it becomes so easy

to lie in years that echo back,
to rituals remembered only - through intervention of twilight loss.