Liars
The lie excites me,
big one I mean, not
that cheap druff of
common dishonesty.
Its bareface weight
strengthens my nerve:
keeps me in trim,
in killer instinct.
Lie to your mouth,
like a kukri, yerking
between the ribs.
Heft in the heart.
I rammed one bang
through your ears, felt
the burn surging
slow as a curse.
And you took it
thud on the lip, looked
wall-eyed, you missed
my thrill. Perhaps
you practise balance
in the mirror, take
daily exercise.
I think you're the liar.