Artistry of Lying by Megan Taros

If one wishes to lie with the tongue,
Then they must learn to fixate their eyes
Into a cold monotone stare of slate blue
Until their eyes are beads of frigidly dead stone

If one wishes to lie with their eyes
Then their tongue must comply to the contortions
Of snake-like flickering and shedding of the skin
For newer rats to crush and betray whilst it appears steady
When coiled in wait

If one wishes to lie with the heart
Then it must stop in its tracks at any and all given hours
When the moon is brightly somber and the sun is roughly dazed,
And even in jolts of instant passion, as quiet as a statue remain
With human form and feeling, but no means to move onward
Only slowly letting the words sink

But if one wishes to lie to anyone or anything
Then it must only be of emergency or to enemy
For in synch the eye, tongue, and heart must so deftly be
That foreign and familiar emotion dare not trickle in like lonely rain
Or a scarce droplet of blood on a tiny prick of a thorn

And if one wishes to lie to friends and those of equal amity
Then foolishly they shall learn it cannot be
For their gaze will be soft and their tongue all a flutter
With laughter and the solace of peaceful conversation,
And their heart will lock and flow into rivers with its euphoric glory

And if one wishes to believe that in love and camaraderie there is a lie
Then they must stop and ponder this rethinking,
For despite the silences of secrets, nothing traverses the bond
Lest it is the burning degree of a spark of hell,
And only if one should think it easily so,
Must they look back and see that friendship is not so quickly broken
Unless therein lies arbitrary, unreasonable suspicion

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