Getting caught in the tide of teeth between tongue and bowed ties,
I stutter a stranded sound,
let it out to sea,
where it's left afloat on the current that catty chatter conjures up.
A wave of breath batters its breast,
and the conch is sounded in sweet resonance,
an alarming shriek;
the vessel is struck with silence.
A lull we frantically fight to fix,
a thousand gulps of very gone air are loudly taken
and choked on.
Repeatedly we excuse ourselves from blame.
Peering through the eye sores of our irises,
one another look distant and disheveled.
Sweat in porous places, sized plump and poorly, build in ears:
a red film forming formaldehyde callouses
caught in grease droplets all across your right side,
left untouched by your right mind.
How similarly seductive you reign,
in dripping displays your smile showers endorphins over and again.
Now with the crease of my breasts exposed,
I dilute time and our obvious space with a weapon unknown to men,
and that stuttering sound slips
and a rush of warm wave riptides through selective vertebrae,
very disjoined a jolt I encountered.