Arge to fall in love with an artist,
The way we were covered in paint laying on his canvas, and he called me an art,
He was there with all his skin tainted with different colours and the way I fought my strong will to paint him with the shade of my lipstick he found as his favourite,
My chest warmed up at the sound of his laugh,
I rolled over at his side and in a split second I devour him with nothing but my lips.

He is just so beautiful to ever be claimed,
Have you seen how his eyes shine like the sun, and how he holds all the calmness of the moon,
The ways he smiles and makes the world around bloom,
He does not know it yet, just how he makes my cheeks go all red,
And how can I forget his curly hair, that might hold little daisies in them and look absolutely lovely,
I am just an admirer and he is my muse,
He can never be mine and that so true,
Like all the stars on a clear night he seems close yet so far to touch, touch that might even burn me,
I will never forget how it felt to see him, just a glance, just his little smile, his dimples, and his brown honey eyes.