“...the mustard on the roof of my mouth gave me the feeling that someone was removing my nasal hair with a blowtorch.”

“Tyler and me at the edge of the roof, the gun in my mouth, I'm wondering how clean this gun is.”

“...I realize words are never enough; they stutter and cleave to the roof of my mouth.”

“I sandpapered the roof of my mouth with 3 bowls of Cap'n Crunch - had raw gobbets of mouth-beef dangling onto my tongue all day”

“I'm counting to ten in my head.""Is it helping?""No.""It doesn't help me with you either. I used to life weights to alleviate frustration, but someone blowtorched my weight bench. How did you do it, by the way?""I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you.”

“i gut fruit with my mouthpush tongue into black belly of papayapeel lychee with teethbite into ripe pearsuck on stone of mangoall of this, over the kitchen sinkbarefootmiddle of wintersticky hands pushing hair away from facemoaning into sweet fleshthe whole timeyour name flat against the roof of my mouth.”