Dear you,

Just because you are musical

Does not mean that you need a xylophone

Made of rib-cage

And just because you are scientific

Does not mean that you must conduct

And experiement into glucose and respiration

And just because you are mathematical

Does not mean that infinitesimal ratios

Should overtake your masterpiece of mechanics...

And there - right there - you become a painting on a wall

A photograph washed too long in the sun

A canvas that I will stare at on raining days

Waiting until the drops on the window pane

Transfer to the skin of your oil-slick face

And to mine

Because you were denoted by the light and shade

Of Mum's tears

And sometimes I want to scribble annotations all over you

So that we can know the bones

You came to love

Others, I speculate whether to redraw you with words

Would be blasphemous -

Never quite capturing the shape of your laugh

And the colours of your mind

Or the tarnish that claimed it...

Just because you are so greatly flawed

Does not mean that you are too far gone

To crawl back, safe,

From me,

Because you were always too preoccupied to write it for yourself