Challenging Poetry

I am the wordsmith—I traffic in words

give me everything—the
sound of your baby's first laugh,
the smell of fresh mowed grass
on your seventh birthday,
the texture and taste of Chiclets
from your grandfather's pocket,
and I will give you words. sweet
words to ache in your bones
or hot words to melt and cover
your hands or sharp words to
cut like glass until you bleed
from ten thousand wounds. but
know this, my words will change
your memory, tainting it with new
meanings and associations.
there are no returns.

line count: 16
prompt: traffic