Deceived by Sarah La Rocque

The addictive
intelligence
of your lies, falling
like Tarot cards
from the high window of your lips.
The ruthlessness with which you shape each jewel
of ice
in your cathedral of frozen water
and diamonds

You cry
living tears
as I approach
your throne
for forgiveness
for loving the illusions.

Butterflies
made of paper.
Your butterflies,
flapping around me
one pierces
my heart
with a rose thorn
and I bleed
with joy,
for the integrity
of my crucifixion.
I am spent
like a gold leaf,
sunset,
I rise
Again.