It was like a swelling of butterflies came tumbling out
And smacked into my teeth.
They proceeded to tumble around in my mouth
cavorting and spinning.
They tasted like warm butter and golden lamps on nighttime streets.
They hit the roof of my mouth with such force that I was unable to keep them caged there.
So I opened my lips
In that dark room with only one light and the old green wallpaper.
The music was barely audible int he speakers on the desk and my arms we falling asleep from holding them up for so long.
They dripped past my lips to land on my lap with a crispness and then they rolled along my bedspread like sprites iceskating on jack frost's pond.
They lit up the room like some sort of screen and it was illustrated with such beautiful freedom.
Every single word tasted savory and every single freeing of a word was like another being invited to the midnight tea party.
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