Your mouth fumbles When you call me baby The word is foreign. You are afraid. A mouse caught in the gaze of a snake. Will it slice your tongue if you say it too hard? Or too soft?
It rolls up your throat Pushes past your teeth with great strength Awkward and sounding slightly out of breath You mumble it between "hey' and "how are you" Squished and small Like it doesn't deserve recognition or even its own space.
You've wrapped it in fear Hoping that if you say it nicely Maybe somehow it will be less like a missile Maybe this time it won't hurt.
It is exotic to that mouth of yours. A rare commodity, A precious rock we have to excavate Our own romantic version of the sword in the stone
**** this ****** Big ******* massive Enormous country of ours. This desolate land God forsaken. My skin is too soft, My heart is too weak to be dragged up and down coasts Chasings stories and heartache. A mail-order bride, A ******* for love, the mouse who ran to the Predator.
a small, dark shape is reflected in the large, round eyes of the owl tilting its head, it watches the creature snuffling through the snow and listens to its feet move it takes off from its branch with a shivering of ice
meanwhile, i pretend i dont know it can hear me and continue clambering along i do not know if it would be better to look my death in the face
Once upon a time There was a mouse Who pretended to be a Real Girl And she dressed herself up And hid her whiskers behind Jewelry and rouge And porcelain powder And she scurried away When the cats got too close
She decorated her hole In the wall With rose petals and baby pink And she kissed boys And pretended they did not Notice the fur
But she began to wither Her little rodent bones Rattling beneath A shrinking skin bag Her fur fell out And the diamonds were too big For her pink ears
She spun marathons On a glass wheel Always running towards something Never finding Anything
She got so small That those boy’s hands No longer had anything To hold onto And suddenly They did not want to Talk to her Anymore And her rose filled nest in the wall Became a Black hole of guilt
And it ****** her Up up up
And no one noticed When she did not crawl back out.
You don’t walk but slither You don’t talk but hiss Your tongue only blithers Coiled in bed with a monster so venomous Your a real man eater I, another mouse in the field Running in the harvest of Demeter While you strike, going for the ****