They fall straight to me
Buttery and smooth, heavy molten nuggets
At which I snatch
And those I catch I place under my tongue
Absorb their salty sweetness
Taste the words to come
The ones I miss they fall straight through
And roll out of my aura
Where without my tender care
they suddenly explode
in tiny whorls, right there
I looked under the sink last night
And found to my surprise
A half full bottle of shampoo
Before my very eyes
A forlorn soap dish, tweezers, comb
Nail ...