When The Veil Slips And Falls… Poem by Mark Heathcote

I'll take her promises for what they really are
a cheap gift bartered for from a street bazaar
whose culpabilities are always to tell lies?
Lies as truths look straight through my eyes
with a milestone, million more empty replies.

Secrets stay within me now closely-withheld
they'll never be unguarded or freely compelled-
a clandestine force once ready to be truly free
a page of my heart I readied to dine À la carte-
is torn-its-entire-length where my love imparts?

But more fool her and her vending-word machine-
assurances, words used season soiled latrine.