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.