if I am speaking to you
and I suddenly stop

it is because I am

how everything I say lately
feels like a draft

there are fresh coats of paint
and a world in my mouth

adhesive doubts
live in the hairs on my tongue

and behind my teeth
is where I leave my dreams

I’m speaking this
like the little boy I babysit

who points to the space underneath his knees
and says I usually like to cry in here

I am trying to tell you
that I don’t know if I come across

whether or not you hear something
if you don’t have a word for it

I am a gesture
I belong mostly to movement

RACHELLE TOARMINO is a poet and educator from Buffalo, NY. She is the author of Personal & Generic (PressBoardPress, 2016), a chapbook of embroidery poems, and she has appeared in Shabby Doll House, Metatron’s ÖMËGÄ, Voicemail Poems, and other places online and in print. She is the managing editor of Peach Mag and tweets/grams @rchlltrmn.