I see you
with this idea filling
your head, filling
your eyes with fire,
so everything around you is aflame;
You try to douse it with your words, tripping
out of your mouth like
shoelaces, your tongue
is sandpaper, wearing away
at your lips, but you don't
care;
You are smiling,
And your world is filled with possibility.
My child, to you,
everything is possible,
and you can be anything,
and everything.