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Gape

I gape*on a regular basis.
If I am lucky, that is.

It is not easy to give over to slack jawed amazement.
I arm myself with a rigidly clamped jaw.
My mouth is a set of muscles rigged to tell the same anecdotes over and over to police what comes in and out.

It is when I gape, though, that the passage is eased. The flow of words tumble out unguarded, but more importantly, the connections, I usually do not let myself see, come flooding in.

*to stare with open mouth, as in wonder
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