how long have you made me taste
the darkness, that i can't seem to
find your shadows amidst the light?

you drape the clouds with your
broad shoulders and tainted smiles;
i ask myself how many times i've
whispered your name in the past
half an hour, and how many times
will i ask you to never give me up.

you claim that you can paint
constellations between my
breasts like an artist with a wet
canvas of oily colors and erotic
fantasies; i claim that you can
plaster stars with your fingertips,
like a deity who overdosed on
starlight and daydreams.

i close my eyes to imagine a world
where there is light, and there is a
you and i, and i open my eyes to see
your world, where there is art that
imitates life.