Rehearsal

She's here, but in the distance,
With her fish-hook hands
And her sugar-sweet voice,
The bait for my trust,
Making me think she won't be angered
By the truth
Of what I felt last night.

I can taste the envy
From both sides
Of the secret argument.
While she opens her jealous eyes
To my location,
I turn my head
From her experience,
Her skillfully sculpted face.

The insignificant flattery
That runs wild in the streets of this tiny town
Does nothing to hide what everyone knows,
What I hope will be reality
Till death do us part.
Why must I conceal it from them,
Those with whom I'm most at home?
Hide with make-up and madness,
The beauty of a lie.