they shall not die

There are words that do not unravel themselves,

do not creep quietly back into your throat,

slide down into your belly.

Unborn answers, declarations and promises.

 

These words live wild lives on their own.

The moment they leave your lips they gain weight and form,

drop like stones into waiting hands,

to be pressed against the skin,

still warm and slick from the inside of your cheek,

they taste of you.

 

So do not let them drop off your tongue,

honey dribbling from a gilded hive.

They are armed, they will sting.

 

Say them the way you fall in love.

The way the sun pulls itself up over the lip of the horizon,

slowly burning and then flaring to life.

So bright, so certain

you forget that it wasn’t always there.