We wish we could swallow words. They could fit into a spoon that we could mix into our cereal, so it would float down just a little smoother.

Sometimes I wish they would float down, mix with the calm waters of my stomach and settle.

But the words feel itchy on our throat and get stuck in that large molar we never pulled out.  The words stick on our tongues, turning it a slight blue or purple.

 

13 Jan This entry was published on January 13, 2013 at 3:30 pm and is filed under Poetry by Jessie. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.