Just for today, let us declare,
there is an amnesty on dangerous words-
before slammed doors, smashed cups. Broken hearts.
Calmly, quietly, lay your shocking words on the table.
In honesty there's no authority here and no criminal,
Steely words come softly from both sides of the table.
Shorn of spikey rhythm, long-writhing rhetoric 
lies still, lamb-like; object of sympathetic tears.

The knife-thrower: a star in his own circus though
his rusted blades grown dull. His villainous words fall 
clattering as he retires with a final bow.
Never able to understand but keen to be understood.

Highwaymen or fall guys they find their way 
before you dear sword-swallower. Solace follows.