Monday, November 16, 2015

Only words (or Considering a Retort)

You know those words are waiting
Dancing on the damp curve of your tongue
Abseiling your tonsils, desperate for escape
Imagined letters rattle your gated teeth
Ordering the portcullis raised though judgement protests

You know you should keep quiet
That it is none of your business
That once you open your mouth
The words will not conveniently reverse

You know there will be no orderly queue
Of words to march back into thought's safe space
Where they shimmy, swill and swell
Until chance whispers maybe it is a good idea to let them loose

After all, how much trouble can they possibly cause?

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