Stutter

By Louise Heite

Conversation flows and swirls
and dips its wings,
my words crowd in on one another
crushing through a door
too small -

-lightflashing silence
rushing
dizziness
disoriented breath -

Pieces of words
lie scattered,
trampled underfoot,
splinters
covered in embarassment.

Your eyes linger on mine
a fraction of a flash too long,
a fragment of a bit too wide,
and we both know
that I have been classified.