Distorted Reflections

We plastered the walls

with poetry and passion.

I tore the heart from my sleeve;

hammered home a tenpenny

nail to hang it on.

You, tracing the outline

with your fingertips,

trailing fire and blood; created

an abstract work of art with the

primary colors of love and pain.

I'm lost in a gallery of fun-house mirrors

searching for what I've already found,

finding the truth of what's been lost;

my alibis shatter in your reflection.

We were choking on golden rings,

spitting lies like shards of glass,

like a needle stuck in a groove,

replaying the same lonely refrain

of a song that has no voice.