A shifting notion

Will those same three words that so slide down your tongue

Get caught in my mouth like very good toffee

And will they squat down and dig their heels

Do teeth decay from words that won't leave

You demand from me surety of the future

Constancy of the present

Collapsibility of the past

When God doesn't even pretend to know the quantum mechanics of a rustling leaf, or a baby's sneeze

Do you wish to erect a picket fence around me

And cover rabbit holes with hard marble flooring

For no good ever came out of girls falling through holes

And discovering brilliant new worlds

I am many sides made

Many angles bent, many times over

How can your palm, its lines deepened with habit

Ever grasp a shifting notion

Losing its sea

His fingers bend

to pick out bones

A thin silver ribbon collects under his nail

In the cleave of his hands -

those lovely corners -

the fish, grilled and served with lime, finally loses its sea

The lights go out

He smiles

The restaurant is draping in his skin -

that lovely, dark, silken sheet

And I wonder if everyone else around can feel

a warm night breeze between their thighs

A generator is picking sound

People speak above their stations

Mincing lies with grains of rice

He asks me if I need anything

in that lovely gathering voice of his *sigh*

I nod my head and swallow my truth