There, it rolls past your lips
And through the edges of your teeth
Brushing the edge of noise,
That noise.
I grip, you sigh,
Infuriated.
My hands are now falsely tied
I cannot help you, but you
Help yourself;
You feast.
I grip, earnest, and it is always the shock
Which surfaces from the buzz.
You laugh, grip,
Tease my will,
Grip me -- I am incarcerated
And barely handled.
I grip, finally rising to you.
Complaints,
We negotiate, I beg you grip
I come with you
There
