Tuesday 5 January 2016

MY CANVAS...


You,

My canvas,


On which I am free to create all I want.


As I lay here with you,

Your dark skin so smooth,

my brush hardly staying steady.

Paint me, will you please.
 

Take my hand, place it on your chest,

Let your palm be my brush.

Give me no boundaries,

Let me break the rules,

Your blood, the deepest hue I desire.

Your curves, height and breadth,

Details I long to have engraved in my mind.

You are like dark chocolate,

And I want nothing more than you in thick milk.

I see the way you look at me

With eyes filled with nothing but desire.

I spread my own and wish you'd paint on the canvas that is me,

I stay here,

Spreading myself thin,

The arch that is my back in a timid curve,

Drying out in the heat of the moment,

One stroke all I long for,

But I know your brush can only paint your own.

My hands apart in an attempt  to cover all loose ends,

Tie all knots you leave untied,

Try to keep fresh, become a canvas worthy of your attention.

Paint me will you please.

Your violets and your rainbows,     

One I am ready to bow for,

Just to stand counted in the paintings in your collection.