THE WORDS melted wetly together
Slickly sliding across the page.
I was dubious; unsure whether
I could, should, would control my rage.
–
Confined to this fibrous vehicle
The seeping slowed gracefully like
Honeyed thought. Soothed by the treacle
Glow of newly found delight.
–
Then it’s liquid limitations
Congeal, curdle; all thickened.
Each wet syllable, parched then, shines
With a light, cloyingly hardened.
