Croaking

This heavy emotion, it is
something cold
and amphibious; unblinking, pulsing
voice steady in the rain as well
as under deserted skies.

It crawled over my chest. I tried
pushing it off, but webbed feet are sticky.
Change of tactics – ignorance
didn’t work; that rhythmic breathing
and damply throbbing skin proved too distracting.

I tried to kiss it
goodbye (fairytale transformation –
I hear it is most rewarding),
but as I leaned down it leapt
down my throat.

Now I cannot answer you
without choking. My words
must squeeze past,
slippery and pressed flat.