Jasper Sloan Yip Lie To Me
I make up the bed after another night spent in dreamless sleep, kicking the sheets. Why must there be such a discrepancy between what there is and what I thought there'd be?
I meet with my friend with the same affliction: white elephants wait by the door. I ask, “How do you know when to give up the ghost?"
He says, “Friend, I don't know, you just do I suppose. You can trust what you're told, but it's best if you don't.”
I'm trying to sleep, once again, in the din of the noise from the street, but sleep doesn't find me so I get up to fix something to eat. It's six in the morning when I wake up on the couch in my jeans feeling tired of all of this stuff
A few hours pass and I'm making breakfast for my girl, she's asleep in our bed. I ask, “What do you need?”
She says, “Milk in my tea, and coffee with cream and some sugar, my sweet.” When I ask what she means she says, “Lie to me, please.”
So I do, and it suits her just fine. I pour cream in her coffee so it tastes how she likes. I have pulled the wool over the both of our eyes and we just get on with our lives
