Betrayal

Betrayal
The blood of betrayal is on his hands
Faith slips through fingers like desert sand
Hope pinned like a tin badge
On an alibi or two
Brutal mercies, tender traps
Charity, false or true

A cast of tired nets
The ebb and flow of tides
The moon's hook and cradle
A string of pretty lies

Are you laughing now?
Or do you cry?

I walk away from these scenes
Sad scenes
Rendezvous of Watney's invention*
I turn from these shadows of doubt
Of artifice and searching
Of distance and touch
Touch

She returns to the gentle placebo
Of her one hundred cigarettes
Ties a knot in her memory
And remembers to forget
To forget

These hands are cold
Those are not my gloves
That is not my face in the mirror
Death is that you?

The trains roll in
The trains roll out
Step on the cracks and you're a dead man
We won't hear your shout
The blood of betrayal is on your hands
Bruised love
Bruised love slipping like fingers through the sand

Are you crying now?
Or do you laugh?

She returns to the gentle placebo
Of her one hundred cigarettes
Ties a knot in her memory
And remembers to forget
To forget

These hands are cold
Those are not my gloves
That is not my face in the mirror
Death is that you?