I’m giving them away. Today,
my words are free, as in, no charge
for you, nor any cost to me.
What’s changed is that I know they’re lies.
It’s nothing new; the same old words
I used before but called them true.
Last year, I could’ve sold you in-
sight by the pound—some sage advice
or rule I’d traded for or found.
It’s not false advertising if
I bought it, too. The boldest lieI sell myself? That there’s a you.
Because sometimes art is more important than
the freckles beneath his jawline—the same shade
of rust as this sculpture.
I cross the rope
and touch the paper, cotton, metal, wood.
I memorize each texture, every freckle.