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It's uncommon for my speech to reach too far above a whisper. Words released hang delicate in the air, awaiting theives or gluttons--hunters with their hungry mouths and eager nets. Better for me to hold tight until the softest, safest moment, then to slacken my jaw and watch my secrets drift into obscurity.
My words stumble out like puffs of vapor and survival instinct kicks in: darting, dashing, hiding, but you never seek to steal. You strain to hear; a puff of smoke blows across your face and disippates, gone but for the water droplets resting on your eyelashes. Could you hold my deepest secret there? Not quite in vision, but close enough to blur the edges and let your mind make what it will of unclear peripheral shapes. Securely perched until the moment when with a flutter and a smile you shake them free to roll down your cheeks and gobble them up.
It's uncommon for my speech to reach too far, but if you lean in close there may be meaning in my mumbles.
Big booty, numbah whocares!
Whocares, big... whatever.
