If it were not for my heart, my head would not know any better. If it were not for my soul, my heart would not burn with this fire. If it were not for your love, my heart would cease to desire.
The slip of your tongue tastes of silver. A scorched metal , with a cold after taste. The words you speak fall over like a silken lure. Aromas of time, fall with haste. Keep that fire hot, lest this was all matter to waste.