The Slip
the lie sat
in the slip—
between
light
and dark,
awaiting recognition.
when none came,
it seized opportunity
with the widening
of light’s door
and the narrowing
of dark’s.
here,
it robed itself
in brilliant colors,
shape-shifting
to blend in—
every room,
bowing with ease,
folding into discours
it was always
welcome,
a favored guest.
seated
in prominence,
alongside the host,
daring
the light—
who had mistaken
the brilliant colors
for truth.
light’s vigilance
fell lax—
still weighted,
still ready
to extricate.
to extricate
the lie,
in its elusive attire,
from plain
and simple fact.
light dims.
