Just like a line starts with a dot.
So does love start with a thought.
Lines drawn with care look magnificent.
And caring thoughts reveal their content.
Ink flows up and down a paper.
And real love emerges from the worst weather.
Erasers always come in handy.
And forgiveness tastes like candy.
A circle is a continuous line.
Similar to the thoughts that are mine.
A fresco lacks real intention.
And silence leads to confusion.
Spirals cause inexplicable dizziness.
And emotions leave me baseless.
Zigzags show impulsive thinking.
That always sends my brain ringing.
Portraits speak a lot of words.
And my eyes see future yards.
Painting takes a considerable amount of time.
And thus long my acts won’t be a mime
It’s funny how I describe love.
It’s almost as if I can draw.
Once I tried, but my hand couldn’t move.
So I decided to let the talent grow.
I don’t have to say how long i waited.
But you can be sure that nothing happened.
The good thing is something else radiated.
And with practice I became hardened.
Today I can look at your hair.
And write about the bonds the strands share.
Watching the glow of your skin.
Makes me compose words from where am sitting.
Listening to your jokes and stories.
Removes all my doubts and worries.
Regardless of how mixed up I get.
I can fully describe how we first met.
Your touch is so sensational.
Thinking about it almost makes my pen fall.
All that I know is that am sure.
And my heart gauge is on pure.
It’s only the look your eyes have.
That could lead me to describe the art of love.