The tongue wags with sudden impulse
swearing on myself what I’d never utter to another
a volcano of failure erupts like a reflex
gushing in a tide of crimson anger
making me wonder if my mind is master
or merely a servant of fleeting feelings.

I embarrass myself and subject those in earshot
to these small virile tsunamis of garbage
molesting and spoiling peaceful moments
while they silently love me
and cherish the molecules of purity
they see and summon in me.

It will take a higher power
to stem this tide
for my own devices have pitifully failed.

I call out to the heavens
mount me on eagles’ wings
bear me on the breath of dawn
change my mind
and pinch my tongue
between your finger and thumb.

03/23/2019

Author's Note: Making a concerted effort to do better with this dirty vice I still court with too little forethought.

Posted on 03/23/2019
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