The words I need to say are choking me.
They are sitting in my throat, lodged between this morning’s coffee and last night’s cigarette.
I can’t breathe except to inhale you.
I want to hurl them at you like stones…
but the air between us is heavy with sex and confusion and longing and anger.
Finally, and brutally, they fly off my tongue and stick in the air.
They accost you in slow motion.
And as I watch them settle in, you are a battlefield of indecision and uncertainty.
But I can finally breathe.