I consider words,
dwelling
on how they move
your tongue
and shape
your mouth.
How the word
“snarl”
pulls your lips back
to bare your teeth
and leaves your jaws
agape
just so;
how the word
“whisper”
starts off soft and blunt
and hisses on the ‘s’,
pouring out of your
mouth like smoke.
I think of the word
“love”
and how it drops
smooth and round
from the tip of your
tongue,
like a stone falling into
a pond,
disappearing at once
and leaving ripples
in its wake.
I think of the word
“hate”
and how it makes you
square your jaw
and wrinkle your nose,
and leaves your tongue
pressed flat
to the roof of
your mouth,
like a viper
rearing
to strike.