The thought bubble above my head
shouts all sorts of things
that go bump and creep around
banging into unnamed objects with much sound
And I sit
listening
to the wind
pulsing
in and out of your mouth in rapid succession
creating characters with wigs and dangling rings
from ears extended
distended
unending.
The thoughts in your head
-sans bubble-
overtake my hop, skip, jumps
don't stumble
they race into place
and find their way in
boring through bark
cracking through brick
(am I really this thick)
and then I look
and
see
that you've stopped talking to me.
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