you looked at the sling on my arm
and asked how I was.
I told you it hurt like hell,
but we were standing on the front porch
in front of your new sister.
you told me to watch my language
so I did.
I stood an hour by the blackened window and watched the change in the curvature
of
my lips as they
jumped
from vowel to vowel.
my teeth begged for something splendid.
And so I found it.
my fingertips rode the creases of my mouth. Everything curved.
It all tasted sweet when I spoke to you.
I analyzed the cadences of my laughter.
I wrote them down for you. you thought I wrote you a song.
I wrote you the truth.

and then I became insatiable.
I remembered forever wasn’t mine,
that it clung, cursedly,
on the future’s delicate finger.

so I swung my good arm around you,
pressed my good lips to you,
and you dared to give me forever,
in a tin box and wrapped in blue.

“you’re a damn good liar.”
you told me to watch my language
so I didn’t.