MUZZLING MOTOR-MOUTH

We say goodnight,
And the sweet shape
Of the words curl
On my tongue.
They tremble there,
And I must choke back
The urge to let them
Spill out...

Spill out?
I want to shout!
To proclaim,
And claim from you
The very same...

But then I see
The kindness
In your eyes,
Your honest smile,
And I am struck dumb;
Imagining your
Embarrassed chagrin,
As you - incapable
Of that gentle lie -
Stood there
Unable to reply.

Manuela Cardiga