Drip, drop

I cant help it, saliva just runs from my mouth all the time. Excessive

saliva. I drool everywhere, leave a puddle after me. I stare at you and it drips from my mouth.
I stare some more and my mouth waters up.
It starts clear but after awhile the liquid will foam up in there. A little puddle, a little drip. White foam spurs from my mouth and my tongue is swimming around like a happy eel in its lake. I cant help it. Its called something. Its a decease. I stare very long. I cannot stop staring at you. I can stare for hours. And after I did, I am soaked. S O A K I N G wet. My mouth foamy like the bible. Its a whole washing machine in there. My teeth? Yes, always wet and ready. These yellow angels ready to rumble. I slide my tongue against them, all 17 of them, my little angel babies, all cradled up in my personal private ocean. My tongue is on a rollercoaster ride, while it foams and laughs so hard. The vibrations. Water REMEMBERS vibrations. I feel it in my membrane. INSANE. So the little cradled angels are all vibrating with love. A little puddle, a little drip. AND I JUST STARE. I keep staring. I would win all the staring prizes in the world. CALL THE GUINNESS, WHATS THEIR NUMBER? CALL MARINA, WHATS HER NUMBER? I will win and will not cry when my long lost lover comes back and stare right back at me. I am stronger than that and my mouth keeps raining down this lovely wet. SPITTING: I SPIT when I talk with you. THE further I spit the better. The little very adorable drops dripping all over your face. Spraying you with my l o v e, my love. SAY THANK YOU my darling angel. When my words are washing over you like the wave you wished to be taken by, that day when you made love with the ocean, did I say the ocean? I MEANT MY M OUTH !!!

Oh but this month, its cancer season, Everyone I meet is crying ALL THE TIME: every one around me, crying. OH but its cancer season. The eclipse is making them all cry you see, but MY TEARS, they drip from my mouth instead. Drip, drop. I feel you. I am crying all the time too. ALL OF THE SALIVA CRYING OVER YOU. And then my eyes, my dried up eyes. ALL OF my wet leaked out of them, through my nose and into my mouth. My dried up eyes who do not blink. THEY STARE AT YOU: THE TWO OF THEM.

My mouth is one but holds my babies, my darling angels, my seventeen beloved suns. MY TONGUE IT DRIPS, IT WRAPS AROUND YOU. My words are my wet. My dripping long tongue deep deep in you ear, can you feel my words against your eardrums? Against your brain? Remember: water remembers EVERYTHING.


Time signature 4/4:
One two buckle my shoe/ Three four shut the door/ Drip drop drip drop / one two three four

In a 4/4 world, a ¾ walk looked like it was completely off the target. How was she to know that?
The hummingbird - it picked and picked, sucked and sucked at a flower. The flower trembled but it remained rooted. The bird’s wings anchored, rotated rapidly. It had cemented itself, this little thing capable of creating a thunderstorm over the seas, in the little space it had claimed for itself.
Flight/fear. Not always. Anais frowned.

The hummingbird continued. It would pollinate. It would reproduce. It would formulate thunderstorms. Forget butterflies. This was the creature poised to make the change. There was no way so many rotations could possibly remain grounded in one space.

The glass between her ears and the hummingbird prevented the sound of the whirring from fully reaching her. It was a paradox this bird, this darting, hovering, darting, hovering thing that never sat still.
Everyone wowed when it did.
bps (beats per second): 80
Nobody danced that fast!