III

I'd be happy to put a crack in it. Let my heels slam a crack in it. Twist and twirl that warm Summer air, around my fingers and wrapped around my grip, to pull taut, taut, and squeeze its last drop. I could help wring your neck. We can always start a new reality one without the ghosts without the mammoths, one where I would always be there for you and with nothing inside to hide. Where people say what they are and do as they say. I'd be happy to put an axe to it, wedge, wring and wretch your tender until nothing inside. Clasp your words with mine, mix, melt. Pierce our barriers, desterilize us, detach us. Rivals beholden to this giant world.

Before your open your mouth, shut it.