Large Language Questions

Large Language Questions
Jonathan Moya 


What is the past tense of a buckled hinge?

Is my tongue a tool or a blade waiting for a cutting surface?

Does my now end when the teeth of the stopwatch no longer grind?

Do my kisses require the imperative if they slip off your lips? 

Is my regret  forgotten—after the door  shuts and  the lock snaps?

Is thigh the declension of sigh or just another joint yielding to syntax?

Do my tears echo when they hit metal? Is the long vowel sound of “O” and “I” enough to dent it?

Is my skin just the present tense of lust or the casing around it?

Do my nouns form their own poems without verbs hammering them into shape?

Why is my desire always the beginning of my sentences—always striking first, refusing commas?
 
Are there enough adverbs for everything I touch?
 
Can I conjugate others without breaking their handle?

Do I want to—meaning? Will your hand stay steady?

Should my love begin and end with a preposition, 

or should I  drag it to the floor?