tell me

She tells him: don’t forget to breathe. He, walking at her side with a leisure, breathes. Slow. She tells him, don’t forget why you came here. He thrusts his palms forward. They move their tongues against their teeth. She tells him it is a something-o-dontal. He tells her about a language called where everything came from and she does not remember. He tells her because it was the first word ever and she tells him she knows because she is saying it. He wants to give up, it is taking too long, he says. She tells him, stay. She tells him pick your color and put it in your eyes until it crawls over everything. He asks her can it move and she tells him it will if he wants it to. He tells her that he doesn’t have experience with the sticks she is always using to pick up her noodles. She tells him learn now. She tells him a tiny house is a concept for the chrysalis and womb but not for craftsmanship. He asks her does she have boysenberry anything and she tells him berries are only good for pie. She tells him berries are too round for her mouth sensors to find if she tries to eat one. He tells her hold it by the tail but watch out for the snout to snap her way. She holds it out to him, she tells him she doesn’t want it. He tells her would she like a highball and she tells him yes please extra ice. He tells her he put his thumb so far down a fishes mouth one time she tells him she could not it might ruin her polish. She tells him it was nice to visit but she has to shower the young birds. He tells her just a while more and her cheeks will swell with delicious notes of string and percussion. She tells him she hasn’t practiced since she moved out of the house on the lake. He tells her keep it keep it if you don’t like the taste spit it out but don’t wrap it in plastic and let it expire.  He tells her if she wants to try it don’t tell the neighbors. She tells him have you heard from them across the road and he tells her his account has been closed for three weeks. She tells him he is an accumulation of zeros organized in organic design. He tells her he doesn’t use electronics, he tells her why should she see the inside of his flesh if he cant swim. She tells him learn now.  She tells him holding a music note in a human hand is nearly impossible and he should try. He tells her he has paws with no thumbs. She tells him a baby rabbit was outside of her window one morning and she saw her father shoot a bullet into it’s baby belly. She tells him life is not always this wonderful. He tells her baby things are meant for mothers, not bullets. She tells him she eats the babies of animals, sometimes. He tells her does it taste good and she tells him no because babies are meant for mothers. He tells her his poetry is being read to the prisoners to keep them mindful of the world. She tells him she has no mind for poetry only cartoon drawings and he tells her drawing and letters are made of lines. She tells him her body is getting sore from all the sitting and he tells her would she like to dance. She tells him what is dancing but a repetition of average movement. She tells him all repetition makes it interesting. He tells her please write to remember the world. He tells her to write a letter to put it in her book of other letters except mark this one with a blue pen. She tells him to leave, that she must go to the young birds. She tells him does a letter mean more than paper and ink and he tells her no.  She tells him she will write, and if her fingers don’t stop she will keep going until she dies. He tells her his t-shirt lets the sun rays touch his skin and it burns until it is pink. He tells her he does everything to not let the rays touch but he is a human and programmed for error. She tells him error is a change in decision and he tells her he knows.