sometimes, i become a mouth that bites.
sometimes, a mouth that can only say don’t.
sometimes, a silence fills the mouth that i
become because i cannot remember how many
times i have to say no before it means
what it means. sometimes, the mouth that i
become yells into an empty cave.
sometimes, i become a mouth that swallows
everything. sometimes, a mouth that prays to
ceilings, which are gods in the same way
patterns on divine. if i do not become a
mouth that speaks, i become a mouth that
waits & only waits. sometimes, i become a
mouth ajar. a mouth of wildflowers.
sometimes, a mouth of cathedral bells.
sometimes, the mouth that i become is a
wooden pew. sometimes, a mouth of old
violins, or a mouth of forgetting. sometimes,
i become a mouth of open windows.
sometimes, a mouth that walks away.
sometimes, a mouth of teeth & only teeth.
sometimes, i become a mouth of my softest
body. sometimes, a mouth of red lipstick.
open, & nothing else.