Will those same three words that so slide down your tongueGet 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
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