tone poem

the air hung

thick & heavy

with the kind of accusation

you can’t back off from

I was being strident

apparently

where I felt I was being clear

had that sense of pronunciation

making sure

every single word was heard

while the accusee

felt it seemed that shouting

slinging shit words

tripped more easily

from that tongue I once loved

& the morning could not come

quick enough

to ease the pain

we were creating

no love left

only the hating

once the words are said

they can’t get put back

they have to be gone through

sometimes

until there is nothing left

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