they open their mouths

& I am molasses

 

parapalegic           

 

               syrup

 

dissolving into my own hands

sticking to the linoleum

beneath this exchange of words

 

                                     or synthetic tones

 

in this moment,  I don’t know the difference

 

we’re all murmuring resumes

 

// spitting sugar //

 

everyone feels like Helvetica

 

 

YOURS

   

                             🔺