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.