You might say I spend too much time on public transportation Licking my lips and waiting for that dull reminder Each stop is sticky on my fingers A set of memories and ache I wish I could wipe off Echoes of my childhood have me twirling questions between my fingertips Wondering why I can't remember and why the ones that stick hurt so much
A man's eyes bounce off mine in the back row Needling in that slick way that they do Questioning me, really What is your worth here? Prove to me your flesh and blood Lest I cast you out Sharp bones in fist
My mouth is full of the lush green grass Joints crackling and choking- just a little bit
How do I taste?
The feeling of your palms jaded by the same stone I cut my teeth upon When did you start to mean so much to me?
I'm tasting all your revelations Tonguing your reasoning and experience The way you say my name resting on my soft pallate
And I find myself unyieldingly grateful for the way the ground moved underneath our seats.