When I Lay Truth Bare Like A Prostitute

vikas chandra

Why flirt, with the flame, of fireflies
Chase shadows, of their, dark deceit
Whilst, their smiles-kissed, cigarette-smoke, of lies
Dissolves in caffeine, of my haze, bittersweet!

They ain’t housewives, in, shame’s charades
But boldness, bedizened, in two yard skins
What they bare, they make up, with their façades
Half-truths, half-lies, half-myths, half-sins!

For a half-torn tenner, she relented, to dare
Conquest, of an adamant, alchemist
O’er wrinkled bed, when a fear, met a stare
Squirmed a theorist, a realist, in the throes, of a tryst!

A bard, devoured, stark satire
Severing it, from its, untruth’s root
Every canard succumbs, to my, conjecture
When I Lay Truth, Bare Like, A Prostitute!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra

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