Words. Slippery, like wet skin. Or axle grease. Prickly. Like sea urchins and broken glass. Pick them up, turn them over, fit them into place. They never fit. They cut your hands. Words. Like frozen bolts and stuck windows. Warm. Like the sun on your skin, or the way she used to look at you. They still don’t fit. Broken wheels and flat tire words. Velvety and smooth. Like your lovers skin. The breath on your neck. Like love, and everything good. Glowing. In your mind, just out of reach. They never, quite, fit. Words. Hammer them into place. Bend them to your Will. Tease them. Tempt them. Beg. Wheedle them. Fit them into place. They never fit.
I need a bigger baseball bat.
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