i hate it when popcorn gets stuck between your teeth
and you have to reach down deep to pick out the debris
unpopped kernels seeping to the bottom of the bowl
and a lingering doubt
from the moment of the bag,
torn open on the countertop:
was it worth it?
we ate popcorn one night, sitting on my bed.
we were watching a movie
and as I swallowed bits of popcorn you turned to me in the dark
and looked away.
if we dig down deep into the gaping holes of our friendship,
unclog the spaces and pick out the debris,
can we then fill the void with words
fill empty space with sound?
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