all lies begin in my head.

all lies begin in my head.
one truth begins
to unravel a thread
becomes caught a button torn loose
a thumb, fumbling—straighten
the hem smooth the collar wipe a
palm across a brow before reaching
for the door. they say in case of
fire, check the knob for warmth.
i say it is okay to see
if the wind will blow it open, will
either fan the flames or hush them
to sleep. buttoning or unbuttoning
the truth. once lying
down,
it is all the same.