I'd sing the songs with you in my mind,
I'd spell my name with yours on its side,
I'd pen my odes and you'd be the muse,
I'd be the moon to brighten your blues.

I'd fight my doubts to see your heart,
I'd think of you as the loveliest art,
So I'd paint blooms while we are apart,
And smile lovingly for your silly remarks.

But you'd never know these little quirks,
For I'd do them all behind these booming fireworks.
I've written tons of letters for you;
Kept in a box after nearly being sent.

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.