With Kindness, Finn
If I were to write this
you said that you would die a little
but I’d heartily consider myself remiss
if I could not conjure words. No matter how brittle.
Holding the inward complexity of a spider web.
Each line like code showing you how to spin your thread.
Normally a spinster would lie
but of such a different ilk.
You would never be sly
for your webs are made of silk.
I sense that you are true.
If you would ask me why.
I’d simply point to the very nature of you.
Possessing the innate capacity
for rhapsodic and subconscious wisdom.
Lacking all fragments of mendacity.
Holding a talent for each aspect of vision.
Happiness you deserve and that you shall gain.
For I hope to unnerve and dislodge your pain.
Though like a worn piece of paper
I am frayed at the edges.
In this I will not waver.
I shall fulfil each one of these pledges.