advisory on language

if you say too much

you're a crashing bore

if you're laconic

she accuses you of being

cryptic

thus I tremble 

on the razor's edge

between logorrhea

and silence

if I open my wounds

bawl my desires

in short, make a

bloody fool of myself

then in the morning

with that cruel 

interrogator's smile

she snaps shut her notebook

and departs