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?