Oh, rusted gears,
Rumble far within.
I'll pretend you are purring.
Let the cool liquid
Bathe your teeth in it
Until it becomes hot and thin.
Creak and fight until you move.
Struggle until it turns over
And the motion begins to carry you
Along the circular paths.
I will stand guard outside.
I will breathe the familiar oils,
The lubricants that bring the words out
And wafting up to sinuses and fingertips.
I will stand the shock of electric pain
As synapses fire off in the wrong directions
Before they learn to recalibrate themselves.
Measure the deep-tongue,
Utter the forbidden names.
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