Congested, a New Intimacy

[CRNDLSM]

Are windows solid?
Drop, glass--
drip like snot
out a curry nostril.
Sag on your weight--don’t shatter.

Could heads be shaped
like greenhouses
instead of hallways?

We know to break space
is to sprint,
to fill it--to speak,
but to navigate?

The passage lengthens;
my lips unknown.  
the silence is war
drums tapped by
a thought:
I wanna slip my tongue up your nose

I actually love this.  Glass not being a solid, our minds dripping out in words instead of shattering.  wondering how to navigate the intentions of the writer/ speaker, tasting it on the tongue.  congested seems like writers block, broken by unsavory curry like food we like but still causes anxiety if it makes my nose run.