TRYING TO TELL THE TRUTH
If I said
this was all true,
that would be a lie.
It would be—
at best—a try.
That’s what it is,
honest.
I was never good at math,
but my sense of
balance beamed.
It was like a light—
a gift—and
when it rayed, well,
this equaled that,
the way my hand here,
on your breast beats the same—
feel it?—
as your hand,
here,
on mine.