“The Truth of the Matter” by Tami Boehle-Satterfield


The truth is,

T r u u u t h

So close,
if not for being C L O S E D.

Like a fistful of hair and bone.
Like an aperture
Judging the light.

Face it.
It is right in front of my face.
Clear as the nose on my face,

t h a t

The t r u t h is not.
It IS not.
There is no thing as the truth.

No angry hole of teeth
Spitting and chewing.
No compulsory feeding,

Pocketed and banked.
No allowance.
No righteous currency.

The truth,
The truth is, that the truth is

The space between.
The distance i am willing to go
To K N O W

My limited perspective.
Who am i? Who am I?

The veracity and mendacity of me
Stretching and bending
The distance between two points.

The truth is,
I am the distance between two points

Longing to be whole.
Circling around and around
The hole

Until the hole
Becomes greater than the whole
And i am traveling, spiraling,

Discovering that
It was always
As plain as the nose on my face.

November 2013

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