Limits

Only when yearning takes me by the throat,
crisping my tonsils and closing my butterfly brain
to sensory distractions;

Only when the kernel sticks it’s cankered tongue
against my oesophagus, making it impossible
to utter ludicrous excuses;

and only when churning shakes my salt
into dismayed puddles, eyebrows registering ’empty’
and my mouth a capital ‘O’;

Only then, will I unchain my curried doppelgänger,
smell mingled sweat and adrenalin, blink in her surprised light.
And with a roar now – go on, roar!

Know how fast we will be away.