when my mouth
was on fire
i could not hear you
i would not say
i was not
paying attention
i tend
to get lost
when the words
are raw
or slippery
they ask
a lot of me
and i
do not know
their intent
maybe
i should
surrender my voice
give it
to someone new
but i
don’t know
you would only
fill it with yearning
or fear
it cannot express
and i would
shake it out
until it is empty
a stillborn ghost
or fill it
with damn noise
and the sharp edges
of punctuation
better yet
let silence
negotiate a truce
and we
can start again
my name
is mark
what is yours
you know
we have
the strangest
conversations
when i imagine
what you will say.
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