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wayward glance

actions don’t match

actual stance


covert measures

designed to deceive

double speak, double talk

lacking reprieve



mirror and dance

feigning accomplishments

taking a chance


games of allusion

shatter the soul

promises broken

confuse, take a toll


the deck stacked and dealt

he observed as to plan

a past left unspoken

his cold-blooded hand


a feast of emotions

to line up and eat

methodical tokens

to take and defeat


information to hide

and suggest to defy

“accidently on purpose”

to plausibly deny


the hand that he dealt

mattered a great deal to me

there’s no honour in cheating

to get what you need


a fool’s grace

is knowing

when truth is a sham

the cloak that he’d fashioned

unmade by my hands


I watched and I learned

as this traitorous bloke

wrapped his lies in my truth

and I never spoke


his sins of omission

became tells and my trade

diluting the potions

he thought he had made


a wake of destruction

reigns in his past

sorrow and pleasure

his quiet repast


machinations and denial

Machiavellian traits

false constructs are notions

transparent to fate

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