Courtroom Courtship

With that awesome aura of competence about her, against her cool confidence, he'll have to walk on water; her lethal, legal logic makes his best arguments leak, and now he's thrusting his whole arm in the dike, so to speak, with water spraying all around him, he just wants to cry, but he's got no one as a scapegoat to hang out to dry. Her expertise kicks up in him a dust-storm of mute wrath, like dull anger throbbing as murderous thoughts' aftermath; his pique hisses low, wanting to roar as fiery fury, but he must control his blaze to forestall self-injury; he must feign congeniality and endure all of these and swallow what's left of his pride, pleading, "Your Honor, please."