Let me now unravel screams
knotted in the knoll of your tongue,
simple throttled terror scraping
languid through heavy bones,
shrill your silly iris to umbrellas,
whatever. You like it.

The throb of throat to fist
is like the antechamber of waking
to wafting breakfast smells, pop
and sizzle of bacon blending
with late dreams; the body shivers alive,
grateful for its many tendons. Let me
now give your mouth a definition.

I will call it hurricane, pouting
against the sturdy shore of my shoulder.
Jokes and promises splattered desperate
into the urn of my rigid hand, morning
is your only witness, no
one will believe you.

Let me now define the femur
rocketing against me, the low
shaky favor a clarinet asks
when it cowers in the corners of an orchestra.