Gloves

How long can you speak.

Without inhaling. How long.

Can you inhale without.

Bursting apart. History is wagging.

Its ass at us. Twirling in its silver.

Cape. I want to kiss.

Your scalp. I want you to kiss.

My friends. Can you see the wet.

Azalea quivering.

On its vine. Its ripening.

Dread. If it never rained again.

I would still wear.

My coat. Still wrap.

My socks in plastic. Doing.

One thing is a way.

Of not doing everything else.

Today I answer only.

To my war name. Wise.

Salt. I can make.

A stone float off into.

The sky. I can make.

A whole family.

Disappear. I know.

So many people.

Have been awful to you.

I’ve given each one.

A number. When you’re ready.

I will ask you to draw me.

Their hands.