Lie Like a Child

I lied about tomorrow
I always do
I pack time in my palms
into stones
tell you how they skip
over taut water.
I lied about knowing Jesus
I always do
I don't know how to
fortify the water's surface
and saunter to you.
I lied like a child
I always do
I pack images together in my palms
into a house
forgetting to leave
gaps in the story, a door to get in.
I stand outside you.

apr 10, 11