I find your sin
deeply embedded in
soft silk stiches that you threaded,
the dark dyed lines you used
to imbue your touch
with more than the magic of
love and lust,
attaching me to the dangerous
state of us.

A practiced deceptionist you are,
spinning illusions with your webs of words,

oh deceiver, oh wicked liar
I bind your mouth with twine and wire
to trap your voice inside your mind
but still become ******* in your webbing.

Tenuously tangled and mangled,
I manage to unthread from you
to find a new avenue to the truth,
but just as I am about to unwind
I find I am inclined to stay entwined
with the very vines I used to bind you
because I am not ready to lose
the one who misled my lately leaded heart.