How does this taste?
Can we sense the extract mixing upon our tongues. These words that please, or dissuade, or lie.
I can.
How you must be tired, a fatigue I've never known. To listen and believe!
Yet the let down.
Always a let down.
Will I be another?
Will there be a drop of blood larger than our resolve to traverse it, will I make you sick with my promises of sweet flowers, will you recoil in disgust by an unknown factor, will we make it past this first hit placed on our mingled tongues?
I hope not, I hope so, I'm confused, this is too new, all I do know is, all I want is you.