My tongue is a tightrope,
It twists when I command it.
My tongue is a rude joke
When words get too stranded.
The teeth serve as a trigger
When other defenses fail.
They leave marks and figures,
Shoot coffins into nails.
And my lips glisten in red,
They quiver when you whisper.
My lips speak with the dead
And make the third sin my sister.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 