▛▜ "Thank you." Words-out whistle through teeth like gravestones. "Thank you." And a chatter, and a chatter, and a chatter; something birds would use to crack a seed. "Thank you." Grease-just-yellow makes a layer on your lips and how much dust it pulls from air, you'll never know. "Thank you." It's not a smile as those lips part wider, wider, wide. "Thank you." You lower your head and a blush starts to flush-out pink on both your cheeks. "It was really nothing." Bashful. So bashful, we've become /bəˈkʌm/.