Strangers in the Night, Glances

When my breath collides between my lips
a small sound comes forth, a whimper,
that when heard by a person standing
with his head beside my neck
it alerts an inner system of wires and hooks
that changes their skin to a thick leather,
tough and unnerved.

Our brains switch, and I receive the jello mold inside his head,
cold and wiggly.

The floating peices of fruit block me
from seeing what comes next
and the world becomes a blur
of firsts and lasts.