When I speak the words aloud
Are you listening to each pause?
The whispers between the sounds
Sibilant sighs, plosive pops and
Friction reflected in fricatives?
The more clipped and precise my
Consonants and vowels
The angrier I am.
Do not mistake my veneer
For truth, I will remain
Icily polite. Strangers may not
Understand the depth of rage
Concealed beneath these dulcet
Tones. But trust me
When you listen
To what I do not say
You will hear my thoughts
And then, if you are wise
Turn tail and flee
Before my temper
Gains its head
Katherine Shirley 