Covert communication

Not only eyes
Reflect the soul:
Even your lies
Can play this role.
Between your words
Are gaping rifts;
And, though your superego sifts
All that you plainly say, the hordes
Of things that dwell in your abyss
Will - now and then - escape through these.

I may not see the telltale glint
In your brown eyes, and yet, the hint
Is far from lost on me, for lo:
It claws its way from down below,
Slipping through gaps between your words,
To zigzag through my mental fjords
And, dormant, hide
Below my reason,
Till time is right
To work its treason
And in my mind's ear gently hiss
A deadly truth from your abyss.