I want to paint you,

and use cerulean blue

burnt sienna and lemon yellow,

or,

I want to sketch the harsh lines

of your face,

using charcoal and chalk

And press the dark smudges against your skin.

Be my muse, strange creature of love and hate and fear.

Let me render your features, the feminine sweep of eyelashes and cruel curl of your mouth,

the curve of your neck, the arch of your back,

the elegance of your fingers.

But the light in your eyes,

I will never capture,

nor should I aspire to.

I don’t want you, to possess you or make you mine,

to claim you with tongue and teeth,

I just want you to sit,

in my company,

with silence and breathe,

and be my muse.