he never could get it right.
what is so difficult about it?
it's really nothing more than
a subtle conjunction of
subconsciously choreographed
jaw motions
& an exhale of the soul.
then again i suppose
it's not always easy
to breathe through your soul
in a place like this.
better to put yourself in a place
that tastes more like honey
& less like glue-
perhaps a place where
somebody loves somebody
& nobody leaves nobody.
& you can break the urge to
keep the light on a little longer
& your mind a little louder
to muffle "the thought of him."
if you will, trust me when i say this:
"the thought of him" makes a noise like
a really bad song
that finally grows on you-
only, one day you wake up
to realize
why you didn't like it at the start.
or
if you will, trust me again.
"the thought of him" made a noise like
a song you had never heard before.
but you knew it was your favorite
even before it finished playing.
only, one day you play it for the last time.
death by "one-too-many."
to conceive of the
melody between these two scenarios
seems futile
but it doesn't keep me
from wondering
if anyone ever taught him
the secret to a whisper.
i do admit, it pains me lightly
that i couldn't pull it off.
though, as a good sport
i can't go without noting:
he is the one who
taught me how to shout.
