The Truth Only I Tell

Your fingers brush down my spine,
Tracing a line followed by many before.
My hard shell draws you in,
Masking my true features with a synoptic expectation,
Which is all you discover before I open up to you.
 
You tread over my mountains of illusion,
My lakes of angelic beauty,
My eloquent words capturing your every being.
Pulling you into a halcyon world,
Your heart and mind deceived by the façade I create,
 
Twisting your emotions with my melancholies,
My audaciousness,
And my nefariousness,
Spiralling into unpredictability,
Captivating you into a state of indecisive wonder,

The wonder fades like my slowly aging pages,
I hide obvious secrets to delay an impending end,
Your fingers find my last page, our dalliance evanescent,
You return me to my shelf, my grief ineffable,
Once more turning my tears to dust.