Tongue runs cold
words freeze on its tip,
neither melting their way back to heart,
nor diving off the lip,
voice rises retreats like an impatient wave beneath the throat.
There is another world around the clavicle,
a volcano desperate to erupt,
throw up all the lava,
crushing the icebergs,
before diving of the lips,
dragging a scream along.
And the moment passes…
All the lava drowns in my veins,
burning the heart,
smoking the lungs.
My eyes go blank after the calamity inside,
and just then someone asks
i say, “nothing, just choked..”