by Louise Heite

Conversation flows and swirls
and dips its wings,
my words crowd in on one another
crushing through a door too small -
-lighttlashing silence
disoriented breath -
Pieces of words
lie scattered
trampled underfoot,
splinters .
covered in embarrassment.
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

Louise Heite lives in Seydisfjord, Iceland where she runs a small commercial sign and graphics company and does advertising consulting. A true renaissance woman she has a Ph.D. in material-culture history, and is an exporter of wool products and crafts, freelance writer, aircraft pilot and has taught primary grades through graduate school.