I think I found the chink in the armour,

I think I found your disguise,

I think I found what lies beneath,

The true character behind those eyes.

 

A slip of the tongue whets truth’s cruel form,

And shows me what had yet been unseen,

The wrong choice of word, adjective, verb,

Makes dirty what once had shone clean.

 

And with that mistake, a whole character shifts,

The directory of action dissolved,

All memories seem jilted - not quite as sweet -,

My perception assuredly evolved

 

The optician switches the lens,

And the rosy tint morphs to green 

Makes me see shadows in the corner of rooms

Where before they remained unseen

 

And though I see clearer,

I still yearn for the pink,

To go back to the warm and the soft,

Our harmonies safely back in sync.