Cinnamon Debris
Jun 9 · 1 min read
You’re a spoonful of cinnamon.
You splatter my lungs and I wheeze.
Are you debris?
Confetti?
Both thrown like some chaotic spell.
With one, lick-lipping slurp,
The words I know,
Become words I knew,
Cotton candy under my tongue.
Do you feel me dissolve?
The Autumn you’ve hatched?
Toasty.
Gritty.
So I try and cough you out.
Do you see this mouth?
The tongue-twisted swaddle you’ve made of me?
Honey,
Can I trap your warmth?
Can I trust your sweetness?
And still,
I’ll stay.
And still,
I’ll go back for the double-dip,
Cinnamon confetti or debris.
