she always stays up
through the night, hunched over art
her eyes wide awake

a bump on the skin
foreign abnormality
that i must have missed

the sky a faint grey
suddenly turned black as night
wind roars, thunder cracks

i'm not your baby
you must have mistaken me
for someone you knew

something lingers in the air
   after you have left

perhaps it's your perfume
   but maybe it's the ***** on your breath

it both consoles me
   and worries me

the fact that your presence
   never leaves

maybe it's symbolic of how
   you never leave my thoughts

you're in the little things i do
   or experience

always on my mind
   you're always there

solitude of art
long nights in the studio
paint my only friend