He told me to say what comes to mind. So, I sat back and thought for a second. Then I started to talk. I started going and flowing and spinning this spoken jam like a DJ packed with style and fire but the words were still cool in my throat like menthol. I could taste them on my lips, they were smooth as they slid together and I sealed each phrase with a kiss. Each word brought to me this surreal sensation like when you sing for the moment, when you sing of the delirious beauty of a laugh or a friend or the shine of someone in love.

It was you that came to mind. You that made my words soar as you make my heart pound and my mouth smile and my soul grow and grow until my body couldn’t possibly hold it anymore. I had to let it out, through my fingers and my toes and through these words, these words that are still bursting from my tongue, heavy enough that I feel them crunching on my vocal chords. I spoke fast about you and I still felt the tingle in my bones, but as my voice droned on the words turned sour on my tongue, they left a bad taste in the back of my throat. I didn’t notice though, I only noticed how my skin felt like it could melt off my bones at the sight of your smile that was hot as the sun. The words run past my teeth, not letting themselves linger inside my cheeks long enough to recognize that taste. I spoke as I sat in that chair, wringing my hands and wondering if this was really the right thing to do.

I haven’t seen you, and it’ll be a while till I do. This time I feel the bittersweet taste coating my tongue and pulling on my mind like a child trying to get mom’s attention. I’ll just ignore it though, because the thought of you still burns that light inside my soul, the one you said you saw that night in February on Marlow Street. It’s June already, and a realization tries to hide behind my eyes, but I know that as long as I keep speaking my mind, I’ll talk about you till the day I die.