deceitful alchemist

you told me always: tiny vial of potion, glittering, enticing - too tempting to turn down. too easy (foolish) to reach out, wrap clumsy fingers around thin glass. (the elixir sparkled, burned going down; burned away all your lies about always.)


elegance is your favourite; intelligence is mine, on permanent loan. grace is what you gifted me (not-so charitably). i repaid it with humility, hid in silence and facades. then there's that secret plus-one (or m o r e) - yet neither of us acknowledge it.