When I lie
it is like checking the weather
instead of looking out the window.
I like the weather men
in their finely pressed suits
pointing at swarms of bright color
as if they were clouds in the sky.

It's moving east!
It's moving east!

I said once that the clouds collided
into each other as if this were an impossibility.

But it's raining.

You're moving west.
I think you've dissipated.

And I.
I am out the window.
The weathermen keep telling their lies.