Your body is my canvas
and my fingers
are the bristles of the brush
the places I’ve touched you
changing color
in gentle strokes and swirls

I long to step back
and hold you in the light
examining every detail
for the tiniest spot
my paintings may have missed

and failing to find
a place without hue
to lay you down
lick you clean with turpentine tongue
and begin anew.

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byBelegon© 9 comments/ 5951 views/ 1 favorites

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