el

The artist’s mouth (colours on my tongue), Fabienne Jenny Jacquet, oil on paper

spit crusts on the roofs of my mouth
like cum, tongue
barby-barred to roll confessions,
the syllables locked

so silence blooms a lower
language, like light leaks
like lesions, lessons limned
from locker rooms, like

livers licked to lasting,
loopholes lucky and lymphnodes loopy
like lip-larks, and labradoodles,
like love lumbered looking, limping.