Truth

This is the solemn truth the one truth. This
is the life that was, none of that could-have-been
un-truth. If you're looking for the truth my friend the
truth is contained in a necklace which hangs around
the neck of the princess shrouded in solitude the truth is somewhere dipping its toes in an ocean and lurking in
the inside of a table-tennis ball truth is in red trees
and the blank canvas of a sky the beggar's cookie jar
a baby's first breath and the clouds in one's lungs.

Truth is sleeping when you don't feel tired. Truth is
that a stopped clock is right twice a day. Truth knows time and understands space because truth is Time
and truth is Space and truth is all the in between which has no name.

Truth is waiting up every night for nothing to happen with you.
The truth is short of five feet and a million pounds with
the air of desolation and the unmistakable frown.
Truth sleeps with truth's side of the head on the pillow and imagines
that truth is lying on the torso of someone who loves truth
while truth listens to the steady beat of blood.

Truth is trapped in a bell jar
but truth drifts restlessly while waiting
for the tedium of life to break truth is everywhere you've
never been truth is everything you've never laid eyes on. Truth hides
with invincible cowardice and insecurity because truth has no universality.