Some things in life are free, some things will take a banana from your chest drawers.
However many miles a road is that men walk down must,
at the end I hope there is a crew of construction workers
that all they really need is ice cream with chocolate syrup, all they’ve ever needed.  
They realize the waves of sound in the air are made out of ice cream
and the swinging of their arm splays out chocolate syrup like rainbows.  
This would happen in the latent way that apples happen, sprouting slowly from the root
and the secret’s on the inside blooming with a star
but meanwhile forming a hide that’s either crisp or chewy.

Biting down on air is a maddening sensation
and the upper and lower jaw blame each other;
contact every time is a betrayal.
They have no one else to blame but whom they meet on the other side of the empty room.
My jaw speaks and clicks in jerks. I do not understand but it is ok.
I like to be a woman of mystery.
I like to be a woman of mystery even when I can’t understand myself;
it is ok.