Won’t you paint me again?
Allow me the role of muse to rogue promises and swollen desire.
Dotted reference to past passions quenched and dried on frames.
Wide strokes to set romance and rehearsed hues of sentiment.
The landscapes are shifting with sweat,
So pour more shades for the Light dear.
Speak truth on canvas and convert the unsure of the promise of love.
An artist’s eyes fixed on creation have no fear.
It’s alright, I’m not dangerous.
Whispers leave lines.
Continue to scratch on easel what you wish dear.