Spilling down the front of your shirt. Water leaked from laughing. Uptightness dissolved like paper origami birds in sugar water into uproarious laughter. HA HA HA! Milkshake through your nose. The two tunnels filled with ice cream and you are a Carvel with a cold. Kick your foot and down goes a coffee can, spill the grounds all over the outside. Do what you can to sweep it up and turn the can upright again.
I spill my guts to you. And whatever momentary reprieve it may bring at me getting this thing off my chest, admitting attraction. It is aways followed by doubt and dread and regret. Traumatic emotions swing through my body like Spiderman using Red Vines (not Twizzlers).
An old man works in an auto repair shop. An oil change goes wrong. As he’s spilled the oil which ignites faster than the speed of thought. I am thinking now. Sluggish and yearning. I will spill.
