For Finn

Like the scalding cup 
Of coffee you left 
At the brink of the table,

I brim with potential. 
I’m bright and unstable 
As a just-mopped floor,

I’m a curtain near a candle, 
Finger in the door, 
A loose axe handle.

I’m the wrist flicked fast 
With no backwards look 
Blindly casting

The innocent fishhook. 
I’m the toy on the stair, 
The hole in the street.

I’m right in plain sight, 
I’m under your feet. 
I’m over your head:

I’ve got an edge, 
And I hang by a thread. 
It’s almost time,

And my aim is steady. 
You’re falling for me, 
I feel it. I’m

Ready.