Tongue Spoils The Mud Poem by Antonio Liao

spoons glister in the lips
nameless delicate bone cried for joy
normal as anybody's birth
proxy by artificial breath as
the eyes close
waiting to be cared

shout of compliments heard in every
corner, while breathing mode
capture the door
sounded like any angels sings
and the bell ring of welcoming the
little clot of infinity

all have taken every line
everybody leaves without a do
not even a single band hear when depart
thou many bring joy to where
we go

brings all the cymbals as we
dance and never spoil the tongue when
we go