Her greens and lilacs stain my canvas.
It's paint brushes and easles that bind us.
Her emotions and feelings in colour, in black and white and some in every stroke of her brush as it leaves a permanent trail on my heart, my soul and my being.
There's less depth in her words and miles of depth in every portrait she has splattered paint on.
In art she finds her wings and flys.
She pours out her very existance.
To be loved by an artist is to find feeling in silence,
To have conversations using only colours.
And to find all buried deep inside us.
To be a muse.
The inspiration of priceless pieces,
And the path of expression for a living being.
Each kiss and moment of eye contact will be painted 'I LOVE YOU' in bold red letters in her heart.
That even if you part ways, you will live eternally in her nostalgic portraits.
