I unravel my tongue
and lay it on your doorstep
a silent reminder
of what you had touched.
We are undone like this,
fleshy, cold, wet
and uncertain of what
to do now
that our pieces are untied.
And I cannot speak
to tell you
that I did not mean
for these words
to spill from
this tongue--
especially not
when I cannot stop them
with my teeth.

10/03/2002

Posted on 10/24/2002
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