I went to meet a lonely god
who held the world on his back.
He told me of truth:
that it does not glimmer.
He told me of truth:
that it doesn’t catch the eye.
No, people get bored of it
and move on quickly,
to some far more attractive lie.
He told me that truth
needs to be waited on.
He told me that truth
is Cinderella
before she put the slipper on.
He told me that truth
is like a rag.
That there are no riches
without first carrying the world
on your back.
I went to meet a lonely god.
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 