there are two sides to the story
there are volatility and gentleness
but we’re swimming somewhere in between
the black and white
the shadows of grey what keeps us here
love, hate
isn’t it all the same
something we keep and toss away
the selections of versions for the sake of survival
for the sake of holding on
no matter what we say
there is a picture of us that remains
a picture that we have been
holding hands
holding stares
we sang through the winds
as the hurricane withered away
the ousted potential
an eviction of two realities
the salt, the vinegar
but the sugar is the most bitter to forget
tell your story well
and i will tell mine
in hopes we meet in the middle of the spun tale
the spindle of truths and lies
we tell each other and ourselves

© simon whittle — from lovers’ tiff: a ballad

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