There was a time when your word meant everything to me—Everything.I was clinging on to the edge of a cliff;your ands and buts providing ridges to grasponly to crumble and fall at the slightest touch.A murmur, a spell cascades like a waterfallthe basin is dry yet full of frogswith no where to lay their young except in the poolof your mouth.Bead by bead you spit them outlike watermelon seeds on a hot day.Words, no, sentences hatch with tiny tails of liesno one, nobody, nothing.