Use Your Words

you wake up, out of breath
kneeling, ankles in two V's
spread from yourself, wet and dripping
in the gray-black granite street.
night - your exhales grow stronger,
and you take out shapes of glass from your mouth;
piece by piece, no blood comes of it
shard and chunk and lever
each and all, without any fear.
knowing full well what's come from and got into
this mouth,
been demonstrative and concealing,
these lips,
ruled by it and it's very slave.
they all see, but no one cares of this act,
that it is misplaced.
it is only out of place if you say so,
and you just go through the motions
with every intent pounding its way up from your heaving,
natural chest, heart stained in grape
damp and excitable with urgency
there in the middle of the pavement.
the pieces form parts of a wine glass.
must have been a great vintage,
you think, as you smile wide and make your way
through the process, mouth intact and inviting.

M. Lucia