One problem is thinking continually
with the mouth. Is the thought
of small muscles lipping across milk teeth.
The earliest mouths
make not such labor, exactly.
There is no effort, just babes’ well-greased
easy and irritating condemnation.
The trance and deep terrifying thirst
make as a moth
continuously flaming in the mouth.
The word is made in a heart
to just stay there, ok?

From Robert Strong's poem, "Selah" in the Puritan Spectacle, available soon from Elixir Press.