. conscience of gold never stopped me from wrapping my heart up in the darkest of things. don't go, tread softly on this newly broken soil. Kiss your palms once each before you touch anything that resides here. Leave your twisted metal heart at the door, it won't pass the screenings. I want to know what summer tastes like I want to know how the colors rest on your tastebuds and dissolve into your bloodstream, warm and welcoming. Brush the dust off old phrases turn them over in this new light to see how they fit. Shelf them, along with iron fists and barbed wire. We've no need of such weapons in this place.