Those who tell the truth shall live forever.

I have tasted the words from your lips,

sweeter than I had imagined.

Don't let the salt linger;

I have traced my tongue against it

long enough to sacrifice familiarity

for something better.

Show me nothing less,

because my ribcage is a battlefield

of scar tissue.

Your fingertips aren't the first,

but I wish them to be the last.

So keep them graceful,

let your feet to the ways of the wind,

and keep your mouth honest. 

                                                                                    (I love you.)