"all i have to offer"

i can't dance
or change the oil
in your car.

i'm no good
with numbers.

spiders frighten me.

what i do have
are words
and a keen ability
to use them
to erect scaffolding
to the moon;

to sew broken souls
into a blanket
of warmest gold;

to twist you
through a needle's eye,
leaving you dripping,
begging for more.

they're yours,
if you want them.

i'll even dress them up nice
with clean collars
and such,
but i refuse
to make them
wear a tie.