Sometimes it seems I never say (said) the right thing to you.

I betrayed my own language
the vernacular of pictures sold for profit
and petticoats
I have never smoked
although I have low standards.
my bars are vertical and easily slipped
through when I feel the need for
escape.
I have stopped trusting my fingers.
They do not move in directions familiar
to my face and my mouth
I have spent more time waiting
to hear you speak than I have
taken my own tongue out
to play it is locked
in a suitcase it is
wearing a training bra and braces
hoping to make you smile by how
pink it is.
I do not trust it
to speak right.