Thursday, February 10, 2011

Whimper

This will break the tension. Heat the glands
beneath my eyes, release the mucus
pressure in my sinuses. Make
my mouth dry and my lips hot.

My chest heaves, and my breath’s involuntary beat
becomes a ragged staccato.
Just out of time with
the bass of my being.
Which sounds so loudly now,
in my throat, just below my earlobes.

Externally, the only expression of the
cloudburst, is a whimper that
leaves my lips before
I can breathe it back;
like laughter I long to smother.

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