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this truth is a liewaiting to happen,
like light fractured
into a disarray of color.
rolling on the tongue
like a black oil
covering what really is-
taking something bright
and making it curiously dark.
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this truth is a lieIn science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.
Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.
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