a paragraph of words
a herd of syllables
in my throat

I purse my lips
to keep it all contained

laced with a wading fear
with a love that’s like warmth
cupped in soft hands
and an indignation
reflective as polished stone

I am a dewdrop
twinkling in the sunlight
of a spider’s web

I am a question
held prisoner
to the whims of time