Saturday, December 31, 2005

prophetic

there is something beautiful about the words
that sink in the middle.

the ones that start normal, but swirl. burrow, and growl
as you tickle their intestines.
and end leaving you wanting more of it's thick

the second syllable of the three,
giving it life. beauty. and a remaining substenance.

like a peanut butter cup,
or a tootsie pop.
or a woman
who makes you smile after a long day at the office.

how many licks before the word loses it's beauty.
right in the middle,
right at the center,

between the legs.