The Truth is boring 

It is ordinary 

It does not 

come in bursts

or flurries

It comes gentle

in the night

unannounced,

unwelcome, 

like Lilith 

dressed in her

bridal whites 

 

And Adam wept

for he

had lost his 

life, his wife.

And Tatiana 

sprinkled no 

fairy dust 

And no pixies danced

Or swayed in

the wind

And Eve, gentle

pink and fair

She laughed

because where?

There was no place

She’d rather be

than here

alone

with me,

Eve, an echo

a bright shadow,

no rosy-fingered dawn 

No kingdom come

What can be done?

And Eros

my bitter rival

slayed me 

at long last

And with my dying breath

I made no request

I did not wail,

or beat my breast

But I heard you 

laughing madly

And sadly, Lilith says she 

loved you not, a lie

 

It doesn't matter 

Dying women have no pride