To the old our mouths are always partly closed; we must swallow our obvious retorts and listen. They sit above our heads, on life's raised dais, and appeal at once to our respect and pity.
Either our history shall with full mouth
Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave,
Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph.
Good isn't my thing but Sawyer's important to me. Please remember I've got my limits and you studying my mouth like you want a taste is pushing me dangerously close to the edge of those limits.