I dreamed you were a cosmonaut of the space between our chairs, and I was a cartographer of the tangles in your hairs

Words are funny funny things.  We say them, we use them, we manipulate them, we throw them away.  They can injure or heal us, bring us down from somewheregood we thought we were, or open our eyes to an unforeseen reality.  Yet the truth is, when you get down to it, they are meaningless, for they very rarely reveal the true intent or feelings of the user.  Words don’t count, intent does.  Words can lie, intent can’t.  If someone knows, honestly knows what your intent is, there is no way to change that.  Even if you force yourself to change your intent, your heart’s intent still stays down that same path.