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May 22, 2018 Poetry

White Lies

Andrey Gritsman

White Lies photo

I live my life by white lies.
And poetry is white lies.
Second language is white lies too.
As well as the first.
But language is the only way 
to hide love.
White, black, transparent,
or otherwise invisible.
So, all day long,
all life long, I tell white lies
to hide my love. In fact,
I never know love to whom.
It may be to you,
but if I say it, it would be a white lie.
And once it is said in a poem,
it’s gone, as a bird flies away
on its own way in search 
of its destiny.


image: Andrey Gritsman