Ants collect on a juice-sweetened knife
Edges clickety-clack against your teeth
Like the notes in my childhood music box
Or the chimes on my braille typewriter
What sickening sounds made
By the staccato of emmets eaten
Nothing to keep a stomach from starving
Just an empty gob going
Yet you delighted
Smacking, mashing, gnashing,
Haemolymph limp against your roof
Bit by bit like a series of stops and ellipses
Screaming like candy in your mind
What message were you trying to send?
When there are no languages in the world I cannot decode?
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YOU ARE READING
Oeuvre & Oeuvre Again
PoesíaA collection of poems for working out the fog in my mind and about my characters ♡♡
