Here I am,
here you’ll find me in the quiet of the night.
Hiding with the beats within the groove.
They’re molding me quietly into a perfect format of eager eyes and glistening lips.
Sullen to find, with an arched back and achy fingers,
Dripping with paint.
Waiting to wash themselves all over you.
And like the perfect canvas you are, I’m patiently blooming in every thought of you.
I’m patiently waiting to pull you up tight and close to me.
I’m patiently waiting to breathe you whole.