Your jargon seems to be precise,
but I know your deepest language.
My lips know the ins and the outs that drive you mad.
Your insides nor your outsides will ever shed the taste I left within your bones with my tounge.
We'll call it a blessing.
We'll call it a curse.
You may call it a lie;
But we both know its the naked truth.
You're digging through her heart,
but of course you'll never find me there.