I met him in a haze of bad music, cheap drinks,
Christmas lights- drunk Christians-
Empty dance floors, two nose rings,
One slurred introduction,
And one immeasurable feeling of
italic '****, you could be the one.'

That's all so dandy,
Kiss me, Mr. Prince Charming,
Vanish tomorrow.

I paint you,
Your shades of blushing pinks and intimidating greys,
Your stained smirk of rouge and strange green eyes.
I catch your fleeting words and I drop them in purple,
Save them for later when you leave the room and find another artist.