A lover like an impressionist masterpiece,
stroked with a loving hand and
painted by its master,
dressed in its finest to frame the beauty within.

You, my love, were like that master
painting me to reflect the person you saw inside,  
creating a world for you to hold,
molding me into the ballet of colors that dance in your eyes.

When the morning doesn't breathe
In the cold winter air
How does it feel to need somebody there?
You could probably hear them if it wasn't for the frost
But their words are frozen, desperately lost

How does it feel right now
To be awake in the dark?
How does it feel to be lost in your heart?
Take a look inside, I hope you find what really burns
Like the sound of a name, more than just a word

How do those dreams feel
When the wake you up?
They're like a movie reel that shakes you up
If everything at once starts to swirl and collide
Then what's important will live when what's pointless has died

A petal in the wind, flapping and fluttering, just floating along.
Seemingly dancing through the forest, to the winds silent song.
Spinning through the flowers of the valley where  the river runs.
No control which direction, it’s beautiful mayhem, taken as it comes.

Can I take you to the poem?
He asked again

We can dance to
The stanza

Spend time with
The rhyme

On the dance-floor
(As metaphor)

Are you into me
Like, as, a silly simile?

It’s synecdoche
Your  dance with me