your words can be rough
they can drink scotch until they slur
and smoke cigars until their bottom lips
balloon and throb with terminally dividing cells.
they can make the marlboro man cry.
then, give them to me.
see, i can swallow and chew
all the sandpaper edges off,
my saliva attacking and carrying away
any anomalies and corners.
the structures of your words
and infinitely indefensible
and if i mouth them long enough
they can collapse and melt
and my stomach acids can begin to rebuild.
your creations and my gestations, revisions,
lies our truth.
parts of it are so smooth
my skin become jealous
and some of it's so harsh and sharp