There are some days
when my thoughts curl up my throat
to seal my lips
with red hot wax
and I cannot even try to open my mouth.
There are some days
when fear is a sharp-clawed monster
on my tongue
held inside only by a
pearl white cage.
There are some days
that I count my words like grains of rice
because one too many
can open floodgates.
But recently
there are most days
when thoughts of you
break the wax seal,
when thoughts of you
calm the dangerous beast,
when thoughts of you
dry up the flood,
and words come tumbling off my tongue
dripping honey and lavender
and wide open vowels.
I talk about you
to anyone who
will listen