--WILL THERE COME A TIME WHEN YOU AND I CAN FINALLY SEE EACH OTHER?

Flexible

Because you say I should,

I try to bend better,

exercise more flexibility,

though my tongue is

a wry contortionist. 

There are things it

needs to explain,

others it wants to reclaim. 

When I curl it around

your favorite book,

it smears the story

and licks your ink dry. 

I twist it through the space

between your thoughts

like a stubborn snail

and rearrange your context,

subverting motives. 

It budges through your ear canal,

cutting off your source of

music and testimony. 

Last, using a gullible blade,

I slice it off and plop

it in the bowl where

the baffled goldfish swim

to the other side of the glass.