you

coloring in lines
well practiced
well versed

perverse in
all that you are

assuring me
that everything
you promised
was real

as you tried to
magnify
the fiction around
us

hoping to
find something
true
in your misery

while turning your
back to mine

climb back
up the vine
and disappear

nothing's clear
through your eyes
once more

life is torn
between what
is lined

and what is sketched
with illusion

(gone)