You took a deep sip
of colored punch,
then suddenly laughed
it went everywhere.
I said don't mind!
This is abstract art.
The color completes
my shirt and hair.
Besides (I thought
to myself) if your mouth
could punch me in the stomach
like your words do, I would suck
in my gut, and pull in my breath,
not giggle or squirm a bit until
your mouth was through.
Then perhaps
you could lay your head
on my chest.
I might need a clean shirt,
but the sound of your laughter
is everything. A bit of a mess
in the right place
can't hurt.
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