The Body's Yearning For Truth

The Body's Yearning For Truth

               How do lies speak? 

In the unusual tremble of the hands

And in the shivering that follows it; by

The incomplete glance of a troubled eye—

The heavy breathing that manifests signs of 

slander—

That is how lies speak. 

               How do lies speak? 

By the hammer-like beating inside the chest, 
And the drops of warm sweat that shine, and trickle 

While the guilt, like a fierce intruder, 
Flows among the artery’s sea of blood, disrupting it’s

course 

Breathing it’s own breath, and forcing the visible proof of

false words— 

That is how lies speak. 

               How do lies speak? 

In the inauthenticity of the voice—

As it soars to a fluttering squeal

In the foot that taps out a nervous rhythm—

In the laughter that leaps roughly out, in the telling of a mournful 

story, 

And through a flush of worry that stains the cheeks the color of 

cherry 

That is how lies speak. 

               How do lies speak?

Through the effort the mind must make—

Each time it is asked to retell past remarks; past fables 

And the burden the heart carries, after each thread is lain;
In the tumult that turns in the
stomach 

That is how lies speak. 

                How do lies speak?

Through the way the body betrays each fabrication

And in the way the body can say what words cannot 

That is how lies speak. 

*Inspired by Ella Wheeler Wilcox's, "Love's Language."