Ever wonder
Where words go
After they escape
Your mouth?
You should.
It is naive
To believe
That words go south.
Words are seeds,
Planted by lips,
Fertilized by belief,
Grown by repetition.
That which you
Have breathed life into
Does not die
But seeks duration.
Stay in charge
Of your tongue,
Of the words
That it creates.
Keep your secrets,
Tell no lies,
Be careful what
You pollinate.
Murmur or roar,
Falsehood or truth,
Your words are
In the air.
Matters not
What you say,
They’re lasting
Once you put them there.
If words are
Not sentient
Why then
Is it said,
Two can keep
A secret
If one of them
Is dead?