For Art's Sake

Early morning,

Dark out, eyes tired, still half-dreaming,

Lips stained from last night’s wine

You turn over to me,

Face flushed

as palms reach and lips meet

Like the way water knows its way through through a riverbed,

New rain, new paths,

And the way wind knows exactly how to carry things to where they want to be

I’m searching for your signs,

Storms woven carefully into the curves and bends of

Your mind, on its own wave,

honest, raw, untouched

Your skin, warm

Soul-soothing, systematic intent

Paint brushes at the tips of your fingers,

tracing my skin

Each stroke defining the lines of my curves

Cursed, bound indefinitely by fear of flaw

To be an artist is to embrace imperfection

Why is it that the happier we become,

The harder it is to express ourselves?

Art is pain and pain is beauty,

And you are art in its purest form.

About Me