My love,
I'm sorry.
I am no shakespear.
There is no sonnet 18 in me.
My offerings are mere attempts at a mark
It might not sell as much
Might not be examined much
Unlike the famous
Unlike the worshipped
But
It's all made with admiration and truthful love
Tailored just for your eyes and heart
So there,
It's up to you.
Do what you want with them
Keep them
Burn them
Shred them
Offer them to your gods
I will not flinch.
