Saturday, August 26, 2006


the tongue trips
over the tinny taste
of words that associate
themselves, rudely
with the taste
of old, and crusting blood.
linguistics linger with
memories that thrash
into me, & attack.
your eyes, staring
up at me, from your
hunched form on the carpet
as you tied knots
into your converse
you seared into me.
i love linguistics,
lovely lover words,
L's, lilting from
any tongue,
any but
your word,
sneered out as if
the fact that mine
would be different,
would poison you.

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