with stinging feet and singing heart

i mouth the rhythmic musical pulses in time with the working side of my earphone
left in my right ear
i close my eyes and picture jumping into a split and flinging my head back
i replay that 18 seconds of the song again
i lick the part of the roof of my mouth that i burnt with the microwaved peanut butter waffle
and the butterflies from my heart beats they flitter from my left ear, from my parted lips; flee
(free)

if i reach out i can touch your face in my memory, and i feel your skin;
can you feel mine?

i like songs that are in foreign languages because the words become part of the tune,
lilting and complementing the ebbs and flows of the musical instruments
and i am reminded of the beauty of language
and i can imagine that the lyrics sing my twirling flying kiss of a song