Sweet Non Sequiturs

“Ssh, she said,” Placing a finely manicured
Nail against the sphincter of my puckered
Lips, “I want to tell you something,” and
I don’t care, sure, I’ll listen to anything you
Want to share, as long as I’m able to be here
With her, to drink in her scent, to see the small
Movements of her large chest while she breathes,

“Ssh,” and it’s a sound like the ocean makes,
When the world is dying, and the ocean moves
Barely at all,

“Ssh,” she whispers, and continues,
Until my eyes break from hers, in confusion,
In sadness, and finally, in fear:

“Ssh,” she says, “There’s a fine line between
Eating a taco  and someone taking the components
Of a taco and creating one inside your butt. I just
Thought you ought to know.”