Let us speak not in haste,
For fear of loosing unkindness.

Words, those barbed, angry projectiles
thrown in anger and frustration.
They bounce not, but lodge their cruel barbs
exquisitely against skin so soft, so sensitive,
to inflame and irritate
the calmest of moments,
to release their poison

The slow death of relationships
in which barbs, once lodged,
have never been pried loose.

copyright 2010 Audrey Howitt


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