How easily I lie to you,
my own parhelion, and all
to me that s beautiful.
You dream that I flew in
above the clattering of horse s hooves
and among a drift of roses.

A stable full of tumbleweed
to bed the blonding bride.
We spilled our fearsome treasures
on the deadened straw and half-moon light.

I played your love with plastic
and with stolen movie tickets
and a flower at the hour you awoke.
Was not your prince a princess?
And was patience so rewarded
when the vines were stripped
and evening broke?

a rippling of welkin at the crush of salty lips,
your lover wore a bandage
and a slender pair of hips.
With all the love to blind you
and the wine to will your hands,
you d never dream of wishing
for a hard Nebraska man.

Were you too young to wonder
when the world made its discovery?
Or could you love without the asking?
And when I turned up bleeding
in the places I had never shown you,
didn t my love come and kiss me?

How easily I lie to you!

The boys are on the prowl,
should I catch the midnight owl,
or caress whatever s left of your disgrace?
This town is closing in on me,
and smaller here, and darker there,
how can I say goodbye to your face?

There never was a sea level,
there never was a star.
Except the ones I pushed into your body.
Believe me when I say
that I was every man for you.
I swear that all my lying
was the bravest form of truth.

How easily I lie to you,
my own parhelion, and all
to me that s beautiful.
I said that I was leaving,
but the train is gone, oh, was I wrong
to love you, to love you?

A thimbleful of heaven scudded
down your tender thigh,
and what was left to do but scurry
up that mountainside.
The people here will tell you things
to hurt you when I m gone.
Just you never mind their jealous tongues, parhelion.