Poetry

Threaded Lips

Threaded Lips (By Cat Matchuk)

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She speaks and swallows back the words
as soon as they leave her tongue,
a delayed censoring.

There’s a smudge on the mirror you can’t
wipe away
No matter how hard you try.
It strains your arm
as you look in wonder
at the mouth that is moving,
without words.
No words, because

she speaks and swallows back the sounds
and censors her feelings,
before it’s too late.

What should I say
when my heart is sewn to my sleeve?
everything is in the open.
even if I speak, it’ll tear apart my lips
The ones I’ve bound tightly
with red thread, lest my demons escape
and steal your sun.

She speaks and compacts into a twisted shape,
Through threaded lips, old friends will say,
I used to know her when…