Strip my mind
of traces of gray
splash vivid hues
where none existed
I want to be lost
to the divine in you
feeling every inch
overcome me
let your dark edges
brighten my own
your wet lips
cover me
in passion’s garnet glaze
ruin my rain clouds
paint me pretty
fill me with you
~
Slowly, little by little
The oils clung to the canvas
And what took shape
Was a reflection of her
Majestic form
It was as if
Each stoke of the brush
Held in the artists hands
Mirrored itself within her spirit
And fluttered across her body
Light and shade
Lingered as the brush danced
Slowly as the artist worked
He filled in the contours of her breasts
Each stroke of the brush
Comforting
Warming
Enabling her pleasure to grow
