Con

You keep me transfixed
With your eyes like
A twisted promise
Of a summer sky
In deep December,
Suited, booted, a gent
With the offer of perfection;
You've learned to become
Whatever people want,
The question is
Which alias to slip on?
You are nothing you
Seem to be, and yet
Each false persona has
Seeped out of you,
A glimpse of an aspect
Of your personality.
Head-tilted in mock empathy,
Snake of a smile
Charmed into a
Dance, mesmerising,
To lead me on
Just a little further,
Every word is art,
A verbal Van Gough,
Sentences form a Degas,
It's all a con,
Your best friend a patsy,
A well rehearsed forgery,
Beautiful treachery,
But the further it goes
The more I want you
To keep on fooling me.