It’s a metaphor, he says
as he removes the cylinder
from the room
where we made
our first child.

And as he removed
subsequent cylinders:
if you taste it on your lips
it will remain
part of your speech.

Your mouth, he says,
is for eating to live,
not words peppered
and spiced to hurt
the stomach, the heart
anywhere
the blood goes.

The children, he says,
hitting below the belt,
hear you.