what I will whisper
what I wont
what I am afraid to blurt out
a drunken nightmare
a tipsy dream
want not what I wont
and all of the above I forget
words that can't be excused by a lisp
but lips they work
to form the words
that could say what could destroy this way
this lightness this air
this crisp autumn breath
this woozy winter dried blood nose
this bloom of spring
and birds they sing
and badgers kiss our cheeks
a slip, my lisp, your lips.