Humidity beads

on our skin.

Lies cling to our lips,

sticky sweet.

Fabrication drips from our fingers,

shadow-thin

and insubstantial.

We are emotionally, morally,

dreamily bankrupt.

We are wraith-like and

ill-conceived.

Lean times, harder bone. We snap like firewood,

the kindling of your

heart’s desire.

We are yours play with, yours

to do with what you will even as we

spin you veritable untruths.

Sticky hands clutch comfortable ignorance.

Eyes half-closed with half-lies,

half stuck shut with unrealized dreaming.

Is it half full or half true? Fill my soul

to flowing over; hyphenated brimful, threshold

of the painfully obvious.

Humanity becomes you.