Fear lives in the throat like a swollen moon
Grief lodges there in chunks—food scraps collecting in a sink’s drain
Shame croaks in clenched syllables—a crow perched darkly
caught in a thorny web of branches
When disgrace bows and tremors
its whisper leaks through wet vowels
Do not swallow your seeds of pain
their tendrils will slither up that moist passage to your lips
Humiliation tarnishes your teeth
chewing on the cud of rancor
How can my little sparrow of joy vibrate its melody
when sorrow clutches the body?
How can my mouth sing a love song
when it chokes with the dry cotton of suffering?
