Talk...don’t talk

Talk...don’t talk

Touch... don’t touch

Open top parades

Mind game gymnastics

As seen through

First degree seminars

Dispensing broken homilies

To the disparate

Lying in wait

Behind featherbed smiles

And back page repartee

Simple disguises

Are for the faint of heart

To superimpose

Their own belief

On passing strangers

In expectation

Of an early end

A brief encounter

To avoid the necessity

Of disentanglement

Every clean break

Moves truth further away

From a beginning

Without conclusion

Starting points the way

Toward another deprivation

Of illusion

A liberation

Of sublimation

For the faint of heart

Stripping layers

To the bone

A bloodless coup

Protecting fragility

From the ego

Of hidden cyphers

When transparency

Is a carnival

Of un-welcome attraction

If the truth

Is to be believed,

Atheists and agnostics

Will still say

Amen