Between the Lies
Would you really want to know - - of the faux velvet sheets of a cheap motel room waiting to be burned? Were with them discarded a solitary night of intense passion or the mere warmth of a cold winter night? Would you really want to know - - of the agony of the silence of the lost words of a lost play lying in wait for its author? Were with them unsaid vain verses and solitary stanzas or mere hopes and lavish dreams? Would you really want to know - - of the golden effigy lighting up the starless night crackling with an eerie glow? Were with it burned the lies in the heart of men without a trace, never to be spoken of? Would you really want to know - - of the early morning dreams, of the desolate beach house watching its last silvery moonlight? Would with it crumble, the laughter and sorrows as the warm amber rays of a brand new day dissolve into the quiet ocean? Sometimes it's best to leave them alone - those who leave questio