Dark Money

The-Fall

I place 40.00s worth of promises atop his palm.
To see blood underneath his fingernails isn’t uncommon.
We meet as sinners to discuss intellectual property.
When he explains why he’s late
He uses lies to ferment the truth.
I have no choice but to accept the lies
As existential consequence.

When I die
He’ll espouse lies
At my funeral.

By then I’ll know the truth.

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