When I see you I get all pancake mouth, waffle cheek and syrup tongue. Stomach full of strawberry fields– forever, complete with caterpillars that found their wings; they are breath-taking. Even with the skydive knocked into my lungs I tend to say too much but I’ll never talk with my mouth fully full with anything other than modesty. Honestly.
Pterodactyl /We come to a complete stop. At a red light. We wear our arms like seat-belts- crossed for protecting our pilot lights.* I can’t help but wonder how many airbags might deploy if a meteor crashed headfirst and heavyset into the planet and pancaked us eternally into this moment- and how our fossils would look confused; funeral flowers on a wedding cake. None of this matters, we’re both thinking it, God is a foster child playing with his erector set. You grin with as much conviction as a dented automobile, breaking the months of silence to say, “I miss you.”