speak again

your imprint lingers upon the fibre
optic cable of my throat chakra that seems to be connected
into the base of your spine

as the flesh bounces back to it's previous form
you realise your not as elastic as you once were...before
dove super firming lotion not enough
to get back those youthful years of bouncy bounce

my heart bouncy bounce

times away too long no speaking no words around to give
stroll-lingering upon the streets of conversational gain/sustain
if i could create a box art of the current situation
it would consist of lego men and women drinking spoiled water with smiles upon their faces
(to get the look of spoiled water correct, i would use milo and water)
i would include dried out leaves found upon the side of sunburnt highways
covered oil dried beer from green cans

the throat does not heal well and i am ever-curious to find out why
throb silent beat-beat like an anxious whale of a time
beaching itself upon a shore off the west coast of an arabian nightmare

i am the one with the key that fits into all the right holes
but i have a phobia of brass
therefore am unable to protrude upon those hallways alike

head downward
head downward having a whale of a time