Mouth Wide Shut

I thought I’d finally figured it out,

that slight arch of the brow

and the gaze upward toward nothing.

Well, nothing in particular.

Maintaining that gaze, I found myself lost.

First in thought,

second in a dream state.

They’d sewn my lips shut,

and I’d forgotten I had anything to say.

Where does the time go

when you’re trapped in thought?

Does it escape through tiny

holes between the stitches?