We who are about to date salute you

I once thought of his commonplace eyes
as extraordinary.
I once thought of his flatlipped mouth
as beyond compare.
I once thought of his useless hands
as masterfully skilled.
We teach ourselves
to lie to ourselves.

We reward outward masking
of inner repulsion,
and we purposefully drink
the bitterest poison,
and tell the world
it is the sweetest thing
to ever grace
our tongues.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.