they choose the truth six secrets packed in clay
that opened wide the reddest river mouths
touch the undrinkable tributaries and dig
so deep inside the dirty bed they carved

with constant motion in the clay and spoke
of secrets we had kept the river lapped
resolved I choose instead to take the dare:
the gulp of dirty water, reddest taste

of river’s upturned clay and kiss her now
behind those trees and over where it’s dark
on lips the reddest taste that rouge-blood line
all red inside the river’s current blushed

and smack-dab lipped you have to drink it up
as six girls giggle lapping up the blood