L. Burns
 

Some Words

I can think a thing a long time
with the words going
round and round
inside my head
like the grey gruel
mixing in a cement truck

but once I say those thoughts
once those words
escape my mouth
pour out
become exposed to air
everything changes.

The minute they're out
they start to solidify.
Too late now
to scoop them up
shove them back
into the place they came from

for they've already begun
to work their alchemy
changing the elements
inside me, inside you

hardening -- a shameful statue
a concrete wall, a cold grey memorial
between us.

By Violet Nesdoly