curvatures

gray eyes
lids half hooded--the truth swirls dangerously
in the spaces between you and I

hands grab at clothing, you beg me
beg me to untangle us
lids close completely--deceit bleeds
from both of us.

the greater truth sets in,
I bow my head low in an ancient
display of submission

Baron

I think that you could turn something good into something very good by playing around a little with the format and losing some unnecessary words. I've toyed with the first stanza to show what I mean.

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Mirror

Enjoyed this. Not overdone with imagery. You rely on implication, the hesitancy of the wait. You could adjust the format (line breaks), as Baron suggests, so as to befit the unsettling flutter through shorter, more vigorous verses.

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Selected poetry by Ariana Rink and John Williamson:

http://www.lulu.com/content/2956099