My heart leaps
and jumps,
with the novocaine,
this new sensation,
and I’m not used
to feeling,
but I try to keep
my breathing
as steady
as a sailing ship
on calm seas,
hoping no one
my temporary panic
that seizes me,
and how internally
rough the waves are,
and the wind
that beats against
the sides of the ship
and tears the sails
to rags.
No, “I’m good,”
at lying,
and not telling you,
the truth,
until the wind,
it finally stops
its howling,
and my heart,
it finally calms
in this beat
and temporary lag
of conversation,
and it’s here
I want to know,
“what is it?” that
you’re not saying.

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