Liar
It started as a veil drawn down between myself & an inquiring stranger, — so thin, so transparent I scarcely saw it, though off & on there came a shimmer, swift, cold & then the looming years, the necessary weave & tuck of truth’s threads produced at last a fabric so rich, so beautiful, like glass darkly colored, & I can still just trace the vague forms & gestures out there in the light.