Quintessentialist

To kiss those lips
which so afflict the tongue, in bloody battle
do bleed scarlet red
to hiss mistakes of feeble men
and catch the jaw in yawning traps.

Clenched shut with ivory chains
grating gums to keep the nay-sayers sore,
and silent.
Do the ugly really speak and do the beauties sing?

The clenchéd jaws will never tell.