Spoken, not merely thought,
Not pivotting around some dusty idle day dream.
The words came out with clarity and resistance,
The friction on tongue and teeth grating out each phonetic point.
The stutter, subtle, almost cured
Lingered on the double l and tricky s of "sawllows"
A nervous gulp was overpowered
Which turned into an animal grunt...
Falling off the finess of the start of that strong sentence,
The anger boiled over, bubbling the language.
Spit and temper confused the girl-
Now blushing her point crumbles away
Shame and embarassment stick to her face in beg red blotches
And then the tears streak defiantly down her silent face.