words of affection used to be
my “love language”
but time did teach this twisted tongue
to taste tall tales, talk fiction
soon enough my ears heard
such soft, sweet speech
from my lovers’ lips
words that would hit the floor
hollow, empty
without resound
I learned
through repetition
that language
beautiful and pure, untainted
magical metaphors
lines with lineage
when delivered by
a malicious mind
or with careless cheek
indulge darkness,
a deceit
and that is why,
though I wish to buy them …
sweet nothings now mean
no thing to me
The Halfwit Writer 