Proximity

Promises under duress bring
silent reproach in the morning;
why say it at all if you will
brittle break it and swallow
the shards after tears cease?
Proximity makes lies it seems.
Her eyes like moon mirrors and
mystery breed fear and you would
say anything to stop the flow
of words she spews that make you
think about things you were
never ready to know in the first place.
Once you said you liked to think;
but you like to pretend to think.
Those who think can never remain
immutable in substance. They must
transmogrify into more than what
they were before the final revelation.
So I sit, 4 days later, less like Artemis
and more like the old crone whose silver
scissors will ensure a shorter life.