Those Words by Roy Neyman

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Can you see them nestled there,
safe on the back of my tongue…
those words?
I can feel them, …hot…
sweet fudge on a sundae,
humid breath of a panther.
They rise from some aching,
warm place in my chest.
What if I yield to their will
to slide to the tip,
to escape?
It is not really so scary a thought
to say, “I love you.”