The last I saw of you
You sunbathed
faulty in your golden tuxedo
bow tie fastened around your neck
black ink run like a tattoo against fresh skin
You were trading accents with the neighbours
strange dialects rolling over swollen tongues
masking falsehoods
and giving rise to pretty lies
You discerned so many sounds
strutted through the dense infallible fog
molding memories into unfamiliar shapes
burying truths beneath layers of discrepancy
so that no one could be bothered to tell
which is which
Tell me
How is it that you carry on
so elusive of sense and reason
yet so sure of your purpose?
Some call it red 
Definitely one of my favorites. What is the golden tuxedo? Farmer tan? And then is the bow tie an actual tattoo? Did you get the truth from him? 😛
ahahaha farmer tan?? Thank you for that Paul. 🙂 And nope, I don’t have the truth.. but I’m not so sure I care to have it anyways.
Ahhh yes, those liars who lie so well we want to believe them though we know we can’t. I know them well.
Lovely, lovely, lovely!