Stretch the truth just a little

So that I can believe in my ability to bend this way

Like a pretzel

Or the “truth” you spoke this morning

That anyone could stretch in temperatures like these

And find themselves refreshed

Like cold water

On my ever drying tongue

To compliment my form is a bit of a stretch

As I am tilting in the front row

Like a buffoon

Juxtaposing the gods around me

I glance at you, and the joy across your toes

Causing them to wiggle

Like caterpillars

Or my stretching receptiveness