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