Tripwire Tongue

I said the wrong word, stumbled—

a crack in the evening’s smooth glass.

Laughter bubbled,

a sudden spill of sound,

as if my tongue had tripped a wire,

and I was left dangling,

trying to catch the punchline.

The plate cracked under the weight

of my laugh, a splintered mirror

reflecting smudged smiles

and my reddening face.

Still, that moment was soft—

a bruise tender and raw,

like the ache of a note held too long,

fraying around the edges,

catching the light

just before it falls silent.