Ten White Lies

Ten white days. What do you see?

Ten white days

So genuine

Even now

That as I touch this glass

It reflects my fingertips

My fingerprints

Of lovely little clouds

So soft it seems to me

That as I tangle in sheets

Soft billows on the racing shells

The whitecaps swell

Too sore is the mind

That attempts to find

What cannot be found

To search for the ships

That detach from your lips

Ten little white lies

So innocent they seem

So small and so sweet

That sugar

If not sticky

Is always a treat

But even sugar

On its best days

Isn't always clean

The End

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