You've got too many words on your tongue ******.
They're all smashing into my eyes, into my ears, into my great beyond.
I don't want your smash.
I want your careful teasing,
the smoke you ooze between your pearly whites, winking until your stained lips could sell the soul beneath the floorboards.
I want your come hither, stay thither stare that you so eloquently expressed in your *******! manuscript.
The manuscript that you said would save all the sorry souls,
and condemn your own.
"Listen to you. Listen to me. This is our dialogue"
I don't want your dialogue, and you sure as hell can't have mine.