For Henry

Henry; a brown haired cuban boy whose got me stuck in this spell I cannot fathom.

For him, I write this.

Henry is everywhere.

He's in the bountiful air supply we breathe in, and quite possibly in everything we see.

I want the taste his lips allow, 'cause anything that's worth having is worth fighting for.

And I fight silently for him with each word that forms onto the screen as I type away.

For him, I fight.

*Credit to @conformity for the stunning cover*