I stare at your gaping maw,
black like oblivion,
an obsidian tarp that covers your whole smile.
Have you no tongue?
Are you hollow inside of your elastic frame?
Or does the universe collapse
in on itself
within your taffy folds,
releasing a supernova when I stretch you apart,
to suck out your nectar?
Earl Parsons grew up in trailer parks next to the Kern River in Oildale, CA. He has a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism with a minor in Creative Writing from California State University, Chico. He lives in a downtown Bakersfield apartment with his girlfriend and a cat named Trouble, not far from the hospital where he was born.