The Blackest Heart: Day Seventeen of a Poem a Day

Your mirrored eyes reflect every lie you ever told me.
I swallowed every one of them. The willing victim,
the virtuous martyr. (Don’t look back at me now.
My eyes deceive me; I am blind.)

Your crimson lips tell me words that sound so lovely,
but surely I was the fool because you had me tricked.
(Every word that fell from your open mouth was a line.
Every word I believed so willingly was a simple trick.
This was a game of rabbits and hats. Sounds like magic,
but more like sleight of hand.)

Your body wove around me like a snake,
and I was in the garden of Paradise.
I didn’t know entrapment was a word
that sounded like “love”, but now, I know
nakedness is not always vulnerability,
and sometimes, you can trap someone
while being fully exposed.
(The lies hurt more than truth, and yet
I found myself falling for every line.)

Your eyes and lips and body moved like magic,
rounding about me like I were under your spell,
but now, I know it wasn’t a spell at all, nor was it magic.
It was deceit and deception, a miscarriage of trust,
and the blackest heart: so impure, so improper.



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