We Are Hard by Margaret Atwood

i 

We are hard on each other
and call it honesty,
choosing our jagged truths
with care and aiming them across
the neutral table. 

The things we say are
true; it is our crooked
aim, our choices
turn them criminal. 

ii 

Of course your lies
are more amusing:
you make them new each time. 

Your truths, painful and boring
repeat themselves over & over
perhaps because you own
so few of them 

iii 

A truth should exist,
it should not be used
like this. If I love you 

is that a fact or a weapon? 

iv 

Does the body lie
moving like this, are these
touches, hairs, wet
soft marble my tongue runs over
lies you are telling me? 

Your body is not a word,
it does not lie or
speak truth either. 

It is only
here or not here.