V ~ When I speak

When I speak it is in two voices
The first is addressed to you, is live salmon
whipping on the silver fishfork-tongue
that you reply to, and repeat.
The second is an underworld voice,
a blind lion-fish, a thorned suggestion
that I hope you might hear later
when you reflect on our conversation.

It is monstrous work to keep both
voices musical and mathematical
so that they keep you laughing
but cannot be misinterpreted.
For example, when I asked,
"May I use your name again?"
did I want permission to address you
as a familiar and warm woman,
or did I want to put this firebrand name
into my latest work of mirror-art?
In any case, you answered, "No."
Now, when I say,
"I wouldn't want your name anyway,"
do I mean I have changed my mind
about its aesthetic qualities
or simply that I couldn't marry you?
If the latter, is it the case
that I have other commitments
or that I would rather conduct an affair?
You see my problem.