530 and 531

To lie—to say that we are better than

we are when we are without an excuse,

when veils are rent, disguises broken, when

we have to give up each beloved ruse,

and say that that is good enough to take,

and that we want that in our counterpart,

that that unholy thing we’d not forsake

for all the lies that trick the wishful heart—

that’s what I think they mean when they say love.

The lie we love to love, so that we may

be loved and be beloved. That, whereof

I think we must acknowledge when we say

“I love you”. Let it not be said alone,

bereft of these: the lies that love should own.

~~~

You grew up slowly, right before my eyes,

as slowly as the branches of a tree

that never seems to reach an adult size

except when later generations see.

I watched you take your turns, your wending round,

the revolutions of a steady growth.

Too steady for the progress to be found,

but despite this, I kept my guardian oath.

For I had set you on your stagnant way—

propelled you on your perilous ascent.

Not yours was fault for what you had to pay

in languishing the path you had been sent.

Two-hundred gigabytes I made you learn

on Wi-Fi that a crypto-bro would spurn.